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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29227926">Me and You Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortega/pseuds/Ortega'>Ortega</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Me and You Together Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race UK RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Jealousy, Lesbians, The Love Isn't Unrequieted They're Just Idiots, flatmates with benefits, freshers au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:34:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29227926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortega/pseuds/Ortega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>A'Whora/Tayce (Drag Race), Lawrence Chaney/Ellie Diamond, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Veronica Green/Tia Kofi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Me and You Together Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2240847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. december- fell in love with her in stages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i honestly have begun this wip with glitter and jesus. i have no idea how many chapters it’s going to have or what exactly the plot is going to be...all i know is that it’s fwb (flatmates with benefits) to lovers taywhora with an eventual background love triangle involving Ellie bc she’s my fav. it's also not in chronological order because i feel my chaotic nature has to shine through somehow. the title and chapter titles are from Me and You Together Song by the 1975 because i really did have no idea what to name this at all! pls enjoy and pls leave me love because i am a keyworker so really one comment = one 6pm clap.</p><p>this one goes out to purecamp and the drag race UK discord slags. long live the clown car xo</p><p>content warning: they're freshers at uni in the UK...this country has a binge drinking problem xo if you think you're someone who could be influenced or affected by a fic that mentions drinking, drugs, sex and smoking, this might not be for you luv xo</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <table>
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<p> </p>

<p>A year ago if you had asked A’whora what she was doing on a Tuesday night, the answer would’ve been mundane. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Homework, maybe, if she could be bothered. She could always copy it from Mocha in registration, after all. Making tiny outfits for Barbie dolls out of fabric scraps, very probably; she hadn’t stopped doing that just because she was older, the only difference from when she was nine was that she didn’t make her Barbies talk anymore. Invariably she’d stay up til’ well past her bedtime, earphones plugged in to her laptop and trying not to sing along to the playlist of dance music she’d spent a year cultivating. She’d poked fun at her Mum for still giving her a bedtime at the big age of eighteen, but she’d maintained that while her girl was living under her roof it would be bed by eleven on a weeknight and out no later than three on a weekend. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>These rules, however, were quickly disposed of as soon as she’d got the keys to her uni flat. As soon as she’d found out her other flatmates were just as riotous and chaotic as she was and loved a night out just as much, her weeks had been filled with nights she’d never forget in bars she couldn’t remember, heads against speakers and sore feet from heels and ridiculous pre-drinks with even more ridiculous cocktails. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>One such cocktail is the one her flatmate’s making for her now. Ellie doesn’t have any of the professional equipment a usual bartender would, but that doesn’t seem to stop her- the messy countertops are a treasure trove of obscure liqueurs and alcopops, and Ellie twirls a yellow-blonde curl around her finger before giving a gasp of satisfaction as her hand settles on a sticky green bottle.    </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“One shot of apple soors, half a can of blue Monster, top up the rest with vodka,” she explains as she works with the various bottles and cans quickly, pouring into the pint glass they’d stolen from one of the pubs on a bar crawl during Freshers Week. She hands it to A’whora with a cheeky, mischievous grin on her painted face.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora sniffs her glass and feels her nose wrinkle up involuntarily at the concoction her flatmate’s poured for her. “Els, if I drink that I’ll die.” </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie, to her credit, simply gives a snort of disapproval in response. Her pink acrylics click against the quarter bottle of vodka as she tightens the lid and replaces it in their freezer, all shiny and slick with frost. “Well if you <em>are</em> gonna take three hours to get ready then you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences of playing catch-up, babe.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Bitch,” A’whora jokes, rolling her eyes before sipping from her glass. The mixture makes her screw her face up so she takes another sip, then another until the weird sour-sweet-burn in her throat becomes more like a cocktail than cough syrup. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Good, right?” Ellie prompts her, leaning against their kitchen counter proudly.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“No,” A’whora deadpans, causing her friend to burst out laughing. Then, realising something, she cocks her head. “Wait a second. What the fuck did you call the green drink?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie frowns. “Soors.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“...Sourz?” A’whora says back to her, already giggling at the difference in dialects. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Don’t play the pronunciation game with me, bitch.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Oh, I absolutely will when you’re just saying it wrong.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Lawrence!” Ellie shouts through to their other flatmate, sitting on the sofa and frowning at the bluetooth speaker as if it’s personally committed some crime against her. Ellie holds up the bottle as Lawrence snaps her head round, dark curls flying over her shoulder. “What’s this?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Liquidised heartburn,” she says instantly. A’whora snorts as Ellie rolls her eyes. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Fuck’s sake. What’s it <em>called</em>?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Soors,” Lawrence shrugs back at her, and Ellie gestures triumphantly at A’whora who can only pout in reply. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Listen, I can get Tia, Bims and Tayce through here and they’d all outnumber you, so. Shut it.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Yeah bet you’d love to get Tayce through here, A’whora,” Ellie smirks, raising both her eyebrows at her in an infuriatingly smug expression.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora is clamped for a couple of reasons, the first being the God-awful nickname all her flatmates use against her. She’d managed to acquire it the first time they’d all played Never Have I Ever together and A’whora had drank for pretty much every situation or scenario presented to her. Before she’d known it, her very lovely, very Disney Princess-esque first name had been replaced by a pun that Bimini had come up with in the midst of their third rum and coke, and thus Aurora was dead and A’whora was born.  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The second reason for her silence is a result of the mention of one of the girls she’s living with. A’whora had never really expected to develop a crush on any of her flatmates, which had been a ridiculous thing to assume- given the fact she’s attracted to girls and was going to be living with other girls, the odds would dictate that at least one of them would be her type. Luckily, though, she hasn’t developed any feelings for any of them. At least, that’s the lie she’s telling herself, as the cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce is different to Ellie, Lawrence, Tia and Bimini, though. None of the others get A’whora so flustered when they speak to her, none of the others get her heart racing so fast it threatens to fly out her ribcage. She doesn’t feel the same sense of dizzy joy when she’s alone with any of the others: only when Tayce makes dinner with her, or when she comes to her room at ten at night for chats, or when they play Tayce’s stupid video games together and she beats her way-too-many-consecutive-times in a row to be considered fair. A’whora has tried to explain it away as just wanting to be liked, just wanting to be good friends, <em>just just just</em> until she can’t justify her own excuses any more and has instead resigned herself to repressing the feelings she has for her friend. The tension between them is building, though, and it’s only a matter of time until something happens. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“BITCH!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora jumps a little, flinching as she realises she’s gone too long without a comeback. Ellie’s expression is expectant and impatient as she clicks her fingers once, twice, three times in her face. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Shut up, Ellie-phant,” A’whora manages to mumble almost incoherently as she turns on her heel, walking through to the living room area to sit with Lawrence and join her on her quest to making their speakers work. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Their flat is an odd one. The front door leads to a prison cell-style line of equally pokey rooms- Lawrence’s, Tayce’s, A’whora’s, Bimini’s, Ellie’s and Tia’s respectively- and two bathrooms. Then another door opens out onto two hobs, endless cupboards and grimy, cluttered countertops, and a scrub of shitty green carpet and three worn out red-purple sofas that look as tired as Bimini does when they come home from a random afterparty just as A’whora leaves for lectures. It doesn’t in any way look like a normal flat, but A’whora supposes they’re about as far away from normal as a sentient slice of cheese.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Oh babe, you must be <em>crushing</em> crushing. I don’t think I’ve heard you come out with a comeback as shit as that in the whole four months we’ve lived together,” Ellie continues the conversation, buzzing behind her like an annoying fly. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“It wasn’t shit, it was good!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Lawrie, what’s a good comeback to me calling A’whora a whore?” Ellie appeals to her friend again. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Rich of you to be calling anyone a whore. You come from a long line of whores. You’re a whore, your maw’s a whore, your maw’s maw was a whore. There’s cave paintings of your ancestors wi’ twelve dicks in their mouths. There’s tapestries of them gettin’ shagged left, right an’ centre. There’s clay sculptures of them being whores. Pipe the fuck doon,” Lawrence reels off, Ellie growing more and more breathless with hysterical laughter beside her and A’whora falling into giggles too. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Well this was a weird time for me to enter the conversation.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora feels her heart lift and her face light up when she turns around and sees Tayce walking through to join them, the posture of a model with her fingers curled elegantly around the stem of a wine glass. She flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she sits down on the small sofa beside A’whora, and she wonders how Tayce can sit in a way that makes the stained, battered, scratchy upholstery seem like the set of a high fashion photoshoot.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Just talking about you,” A’whora sticks her tongue out at her, laughing at the way Tayce reels in fake horror and Lawrence explodes with laughter across from them. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“The valour, the bravery and the <em>backbone,</em>” Tayce grumbles, rolling her eyes. Her gaze rests upon something behind A’whora- the back of the sofa. Maybe there’s a new rip in it, God knows how that can have happened. She holds back a gasp, though, when Tayce reaches out and runs a gentle finger down her spine against her bare skin; an advantage of the sparkly backless cowl neck top she’s wearing that she hadn’t known existed until now. “Speaking of backbones, you’re such a skinny minnie.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Did you go to the school of backhanded compliments?” A’whora teases, deflecting from the way her heart’s still thrumming in her chest at the contact. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Shush, you. You know you look bloody gorgeous,” Tayce says back to her, and even though there’s a laugh to her voice A’whora knows she means it. Her heart’s still going like a train but she can chalk that up to the half can of Monster Ellie’s dumped into her drink, so when she mutters out a <em>thanks hun, same to you</em> she hopes it doesn’t sound as insincere as it feels. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The thing is, she <em>does </em>look gorgeous. She’s dressed in a black lace bodysuit with straps that criss-cross up the back and a tight leather skirt that makes her legs look even longer than they already are. She’s opted for heels like A’whora has (unlike Ellie and Lawrence who have designated night-out trainers stained with spillages of drinks gone by) but hers have straps that are laced all the way round her calves and tied with a knot at the top. Everything about her outfit makes everything about her look outrageously good, and A’whora thinks it should be illegal for anyone to be this ethereal.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce looks as if she’s about to fire something back at her judging by the little smile on her face but she’s interrupted by an outrageously loud boom from the speakers, as something that could be Lady Gaga but is too deafening to be deciphered screams through it. As the girls all flinch there’s a frantic diminuendo that comes from Lawrence mashing the volume button until the pitch is finally bearable and they can all take their hands off their ears. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Lawrence, did you get the speakers working?” Ellie quips sarcastically, to which Tayce and A’whora burst out laughing and Lawrence almost elbows Ellie off the sofa opposite. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>In the melee A’whora almost doesn’t notice Bimini and Tia come in, and they look ready to start the night if a little panicked. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“What the hell was that?” Tia asks quickly, opening the fridge and grabbing her bottle of premixed Malibu and pineapple before perching herself on the couch beside Ellie. “I thought part of the building had exploded.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Nah that was just my vagina, babes,” Lawrence says offhandedly, the others either screeching with laughter or groaning in anguish. Bimini crosses the room with their selection of drinks cradled in their arms and budges Tayce and A’whora up with an <em>oi, oi!, </em>A'whora's pulse thudding at her wrist as a result of her close proximity to her crush.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>No- her friend. Her friend who’s never going to be anything more than that. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>With the six flatmates assembled, drinks poured, and tunes on, their pre drinks can begin. Pres at their flat often look like drinking games, yelling along to early 2010s pop, tipsily booking taxis and then touching up their makeup in the waiting time before they arrive. Tonight is no different; they bicker about where they want to go and eventually decide on the union because although it’s “too het” according to Ellie, it’s admittedly cheap and a good night out. A’whora chips into the conversation every five minutes with shady, catty jokes that Tayce howls at and leans into her side and clutches her arm or her hand or her thigh. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The contact is <em>nice</em>. They’ve reached that stage of their friendship where they’re touchy and close a lot of the time- A’whora’s constantly playing with Tayce’s hair and Tayce thinks nothing of just walking into A’whora’s room and getting under the duvet with her. They throw their arms around each other and bump shoulders as they walk and touch legs on the sofa, much like they’re doing now. A’whora has never been a cuddly type of friend- to be honest, she still isn’t- but there’s something about doing all this with Tayce that she doesn’t mind. It’s a comfortable kind of intimacy, a knitted blanket of sorts, but it’s a fragile space for Tayce to occupy too and A’whora knows it’s risky to let her rip a wall down she’s never been aware of til now. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The night rolls along and with every refill of A’whora’s glass the music gets turned up a little more, a little more, a little more until they’re all having to yell over each other as they play <em>wiggly wiggly woo, who’s most likely to. </em>It’s all fun and games until it gets to <em>who’s most likely to sleep with a flatmate</em>, and there’s a confusing mess of finger-pointing where Lawrence points to Ellie, Tayce points to Lawrence, and Bimini, Ellie and Tia point to A’whora. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Fuck off, why’s it me?” she screeches in outrage, trying to cover up the fact her cheeks are burning and that Tayce seems suddenly all too close to her. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Because! It’s you! It’s A’whora!” Bimini laughs, their accent making them seem all the more mischievous and shit-stirring. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Well! If I’m sleeping with a flatmate that must mean one of you’s gonna be involved, doesn’t it?!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Right, sorry, yeah,” Bimini nods understandingly, before immediately switching to point to Tayce. There’s an arena-crowd roar that erupts from the others, one that makes A’whora laugh and blush scarlet at the same time. She sneaks a look at Tayce, who’s regarding her with much the same expression. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I’m down if you are, hun,” A’whora jokes-but-not-really, shaking Tayce’s arm as if it’ll take away from the weak joke she’s trying to make. Tayce only shoots her a wink with her tongue trapped between her teeth. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“In your dreams, love.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora’s glad of the others laughing so she can pretend to join in, occupy herself with something other than the overwhelming urge to reply to Tayce with<em> exactly. </em> </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The rest of pres fly by tipsily and incoherently. They get a noise complaint from the weird flat underneath them which seems solely comprised of six boys who never go outside, which prompts them to book taxis even though the union is only about a ten minute walk away. A’whora helps Tia re-glue on her eyelashes in a rush and Bimini spontaneously fills a hipflask with Ellie’s apple sourz, “for the road”. When the taxis roll up outside Lawrence hurries them all out the door with the urgency of a mother of five, and before long they’re standing in a queue around the block, Bimini and A’whora sharing Tia’s huge puffer jacket because neither of them thought to pick up coats in their haste to leave. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce pulls a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket, flips the little cardboard lid of them open and offers them round to the others. A’whora takes one because Tayce is offering, and really Tayce could offer them grenades with the pins pulled out and A’whora would accept if only to get her smile flashed at her again or the chance that their hands might touch during the transfer. A’whora thinks Tayce is every public health campaign’s worst nightmare as she watches her hold the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, wrap her lips around the end and inhale. Her cheekbones are razor-sharp as she drags then lets the breath go, red lipstick on the paper and the smoke curling up into the sparkly, dark night sky. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>She is beautiful.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>It’s because she’s beautiful that A’whora shouldn’t be surprised by the events that begin to unfold as they enter the club. Ellie immediately makes her way over to a booth, picks up the little sign that says it’s reserved and chucks it onto the dancefloor to get trampled underfoot and covered in sticky cocktail spillages. Tayce’s round is first because she lost Ring of Fire back at the flat so she goes over to the bar for shots, promising she’ll be only a couple of minutes and the others believing her; the way she looks ensures she never has a long wait time at the bar. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>So they wait. And they wait. At first they don’t even notice <em>how</em> long they’ve waited- the tunes are good and loud and so they all yell along happily. Until Lawrence turns to the others with narrowed eyes. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Here. Where the <em>fuck</em> is Tayce? She’s been ages.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>They all scan the bar, and Ellie suddenly points dramatically over to the other end of it. “Oh!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Because Tayce is standing at the bar with no drinks and no interest in any of the bartenders taking drinks orders. She’s talking to a tall blonde with a dazzling smile and a low-cut crop top, and something inside A’whora burns and sinks at the same time. Tayce is <em>allowed</em> to be talking to a pretty girl. She’s not <em>not</em> allowed to. But it doesn’t make her any less jealous of the attention she’s giving her. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>It’s a horror movie she can’t look away from. She’s aware that Ellie has gone to get the drinks instead, but that’s all she can absorb from her surroundings. She tunes out of the conversation at the table as she continues to watch the two of them interact. The girl’s got muscles, and her hair falls in neat waves on her shoulders, and she’s smiley and charming and doesn’t talk much, preferring instead to listen to Tayce. A’whora is different. A’whora is constantly on transmit; loud and opinionated and gobby and, okay, sometimes a little bit judgemental. She can’t do charming and demure. She can’t be what Tayce is very clearly interested in. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A thud next to her causes A’whora to whip her head round, tearing herself away from the scene playing out in front of her and ripping the plaster off. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Fuck’s sake. Jaegerbombs with Red Bull? Puh-rison!” Ellie half-whines, half-shouts. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Red Bull is the standard, not everyone can have the same taste in energy drinks as a sixteen year old virgin gamer,” A’whora narrows her eyes, gratefully accepting the drink from her nonetheless and shotting it back as if it’ll help blind her, or perhaps forget what she’s seeing. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“God. Who pissed in your coco pops?” Ellie fires back, rolling her eyes dramatically. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Bold of you to assume anything specific has happened to make her this bitter, mean and salty,” Tia jokes from A’whora’s side, and as the others scream and laugh A’whora in turn fixes her with a glare, wishing momentarily she had laser beams for pupils. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Ooh, that’s made me want a tequila,” Lawrence cries enthusiastically, too loud even from the other side of the booth.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Eh, excuse me! I just got you a Jaegerbomb, finish that first,” Ellie chastises her like a world-weary parent, pushing the glass towards her friend and sliding her hand over the table, sticky with the ghosts of questionable drinks’ past. A’whora has to snort at her tone. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Yeah Lawrence, finish your Jaegerbomb or you won’t get any dessert. Listen to your responsible Mum whose eyelash is coming off.” </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A big roar of laughter flies up from the others, and it’s Ellie’s turn to glare at A’whora this time. She looks as if she’s about to say something back when Bimini sniffs their glass and frowns. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Is Jaegerbombs vegan?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Everyone apparently wishes to ignore the lack of grammatical sense to their sentence, and it’s Lawrence who responds first. “They’re vegan in the same sense that bleach is vegan?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Bewilderingly satisfied, Bimini raises their glass to the middle of the table and the girls join them, cheering as they all clink them together and chuck the drinks back. The fact A’whora can’t join in leaves her eyes to fall on Tayce and that girl again. Tayce is smiling and it’s the brightest thing in the club, laughing as the girl flips her hair and touches her hand and tells some joke that’s obviously not as funny as anything A’whora could say. She wonders if she’s ever made Tayce smile like that. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she can’t remember. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“You know they used to use Jaeger as cough medicine? And for ages it was drunk by, like...old Tories who went on deer hunts,” Tia reels off excitably, and A’whora can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately at her friend’s bizarre general knowledge. “There’s this rumour that it’s got deer’s blood in it.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Bimini splutters, coughs, and chokes all at once. As Lawrence slaps their back entirely too roughly in a way that’s about as helpful as a water gun at a house fire, A’whora can’t help but turn to face Tia incredulously. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“What the <em>fuck</em> did you say that for?!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tia shrugs, too tipsy to register A’whora’s disbelief. “Fun fact.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“You didn’t think to pipe up with that when Bims was asking if it was vegan?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“It’s just a rumour!” Tia says defensively, then turns to Bimini to check they’re okay. A’whora huffs in exasperation, folding her arms and throwing her back against the supposedly cushioned walls of the booth. As she stares straight ahead and ignores the fuss her friends are making, her eyes fall on Tayce again and her heart hurts more than it should to see her with her phone out and the girl beside her doing the same. They’re so clearly swapping numbers. They’re <em>allowed</em> to swap numbers. It’s not like A’whora’s got dibs on Tayce, it’s not like she’s got <em>any</em> right to feel a burn in her stomach and a flame in her heart and a feeling of something slipping away.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Right!” Lawrence all but yells, forcing A’whora to tear her eyes away. “I’ve finished my Jaegerbomb, <em>Mum, </em>can we get tequila now?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie sighs. “Fine! But you’re buying me this one, bitch.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I’ll come with,” A’whora says, thinking she’ll need at least ten more units of alcohol to stop feeling feelings.  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“We’re going for a boogie, catch us up,” Bimini decides, as <em>Rhythm is a Dancer</em> blasts on the overhead speakers and Tia lets out a <em>whooo! </em>that’s way too white for a mixed-race girl.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>So they move, A’whora bum-shuffling her way out of the booth and following Lawrence and Ellie, her feet sore in her heels. She purposefully blocks Tayce out of her peripheral vision as she leans against the bar, but she’s only separated from her by about six people also waiting and if she tilted her head forward she could definitely catch her eye if she wanted. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“<em>Rhythm is a dancer, two for one at Asda,</em>” Ellie sings along, bopping her head enthusiastically. A’whora laughs weakly, her proximity to Tayce and that bitch she’s talking to entirely too distracting. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Shut your hole and tell me what you’re wanting,” Lawrence orders her. Ellie drums the palms of her hands against the bar as she semi-shouts <em>sambucaaaaa</em>, and A’whora asks for a vodka. She’s aware she’s mixing entirely too many spirits and her hangover tomorrow will be potentially life-threatening, but she doesn’t care. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Tayce is still there. Should we shout her over and see what she wants?” Ellie suggests, craning her neck. A’whora firmly shakes her head. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“She’s wanting that baby Hulk she’s been talking to all night, apparently,” she all but spits, shocking herself at her venom. It’s clear she shocks the girls as well, and Lawrence turns around and simply raises her eyebrows at her. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Men’s dress trousers in a hotel.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora can only blink. “What?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Lawrence pauses for dramatic effect (or perhaps that’s just the Jaegerbomb making its alcohol content known). She points a finger at A’whora, then finishes whatever point she’s making. “Pressed.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Purrr!” Ellie laughs in agreement, grabbing A’whora’s shoulder and shaking it in an action that’s probably meant to be gentle but almost shakes her bone out of its socket. “Oh my God, that <em>totally</em> explains why you’ve been such a bitch all night.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“This wee cow’s been a bitch her whole life,” Lawrence joins in. A’whora knows she’s got a proper face on by now, Dot Cotton licking piss off a nettle, but she can’t help it. She hates being wound up and she makes this perfectly clear to her friends via her furious silence. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Nah, but tonight she’s a <em>jealous</em> bitch,” Ellie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’whora huffs. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I’m not jealous!” she lies. “I’m just pissed off that she comes on a night out with us and she spends it talking to some random bitch she barely knows instead of her friends.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Wait. Oh my God, do you fancy Tayce?” Lawrence asks, a bull in a china shop on cocaine. Before A’whora can defend herself Ellie barks a laugh. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Aw <em>Lauzza,</em> come on to fuck! Have you ever walked in when it’s been just the two of them? They’re so fucking flirty it’s disgusting.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“<em>DISGUSTEN!</em>” Lawrence shouts, and it goes about ten percent of the way to drawing A’whora out of her mood. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I don’t flirt with Tayce! I don’t fancy her either!” A’whora cries, exasperated. She realises too-late that her volume may have been too loud, but when she looks over at the topic of conversation again she’s both disappointed and relieved to see that she hasn’t registered a thing. “Anyway, you know you can’t shag your flatmate. It’s like the first rule of having flatmates. It would just make everything awkward.”  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“That the only thing stopping you?” Lawrence looks at her pointedly.  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“The bartender’s free,” A’whora glances just over Lawrence’s shoulder, and she turns around so fast it almost makes her feel dizzy. While Lawrence orders it leaves Ellie to turn to A’whora and pat her hand sympathetically.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Why don’t you just go up to her?” she suggests. “I mean would it be so bad if you did just shag and get the pent-up tension released and then you can both just move on? I mean it’s not like you want to be her girlfriend or anything.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora presses her lips together and doesn’t reply. Her silence seems to communicate too much as Ellie’s mouth drops open a little and she fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, <em>A’whora</em>.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Look, I don’t know,” A’whora rushes to defend herself, her words spilling out over themselves in the way they sometimes do when she’s tipsy. “Like obviously she’s gorgeous but also, like...I do like her as a person as well, and I like being around her and just enjoying her company-”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie splutters a giggle. “<em>Enjoying her company</em>, are you eighty years old in a care home?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I’m gonna slap you in a minute, shut up!” A’whora laughs incredulously. “But, like, I just...I don’t know if she likes me back like that, you know? </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie frowns. “I think, then, my advice would be...don’t shag her if you don’t think you can keep it to just that. ‘Cause obviously you don’t want to end up getting hurt.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Right, yeah,” A’whora replies, nodding. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>If she’s honest, she’s disappointed. Obviously she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to sleep with Tayce- because fucking look at her- but just like Ellie said, she knows she <em>would</em> end up getting hurt if anything happened between them. Tayce would probably consider it a one-time thing and A’whora would be let down, or it would turn into some long, drawn-out friends with benefits scenario that would probably make everything worse. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The thing is she can only repress her feelings so much and tonight she’s feeling like one of Ellie’s cans of Monster that Tia shook up as a joke and ended up spurting out its contents so violently that there’s still a green-blue stain on their kitchen wall. A’whora’s way too close to telling the girls about every time she’s pictured her and Tayce falling asleep together and waking up together, every time she’s imagined them planning actual dates, every time she’s wanted to kiss her on the sofa- not necessarily even a <em>kiss</em> kiss but just a peck on the cheek, a soft one pressed to the crown of her head, a little one against their knuckles as they hold hands. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>It all sounds ridiculous and silly and way too high school. Nothing seems to work the same at uni. Everyone just seems to shag, hook up, kiss strangers they’ll never see again in the shadows of grimy clubs. Everything seems to happen when everyone’s drunk. Everything’s done out of lust rather than love. Everything is so short-term because you can’t plan for the long term if you wake up and don’t remember the night before. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora loves uni, but she doesn’t like that.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Besides, she’s already done all that in high school anyway. Sixth form had been like a crash course in freshers’ week; if she wasn’t drinking in parks or going to house parties she was sneaking into nightclubs using a fake ID that even Stevie Wonder could’ve seen right through. She’d half-heartedly slept with boys and figured out she liked girls when a sleepover after a party took a turn. She’d tried smoking and she came to the conclusion that she didn’t like it enough to buy her own cigarettes, she’d tried mandy once and that was once too much for her. All of that has prepared her well for uni- she’s street smart and has her head screwed on (for the most part- she’s still testing her limits as far as alcohol’s concerned). But feeling like she’s feeling for Tayce is uncharted territory, and out of everything she’s already done and experienced A’whora finds it hard to believe there’s not an age limit on this sort of thing because it all feels more risky and dangerous than smoking roll-ups in a children’s playpark at one in the morning ever did.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A <em>wayheyyy! </em>from Lawrence cuts through her thoughts and she accepts the shot she’s holding out to her, wordlessly clinking it together with Lawrence’s and Ellie’s and slamming it back as if it’s some form of medicine she desperately needs. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“It’s so weird that you don’t do the whole lime and salt thing,” Ellie wrinkles her nose at her friend, who in turn punches one of her own tits with what seems to be pride. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“‘Cause I’m made of strong stuff, babes. Right, what’s the conclusion on this one? Does she fancy Tayce or no?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Surely this is a bathroom stall conversation?” A’whora pouts, annoyed that her feelings for Tayce have been brought back up. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>As Ellie relays to Lawrence what she’d said to A’whora, A’whora momentarily wonders if she’s in control of anything in her life any more. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Lawrence nods when Ellie’s done. “Smart advice. ‘Cause it would make things awkward for the flat. ‘Magine trying to make a Pot Noodle in the middle of a live-action episode of Eastenders.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora screws her face up in confusion. “All episodes of Eastenders are live action?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Y’know what the fuck I mean,” Lawrence rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Well we’ve given you our blessing and basically we represent the whole country, so. Go for it.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Thanks, Nicola Sturgeon, good to know I have your approval,” A’whora smirks at her, amused. When some Becky Hill song comes on over the speakers she takes it as her cue to smooth down her skirt, flip her hair over her shoulder and rest her little shot glass back on the bar. “Right, we going to have a dance or what?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>As she takes her friends’ hands they all but strut over to the dancefloor, and A’whora can see Bimini and Tia pulling shapes that they probably think make them look mysterious and sexy but actually just make them look as drunk as they no doubt are. Before A’whora can push through the crowd, Lawrence tugs her and Ellie back a bit. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Here, I think I’ve remembered something Tayce told me once, if this is of any use to you?” she begins. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>All of A’whora’s nerve endings light up like one of those colourful optical fiber lamps she had when she was small. Her eyes have clearly flown open and her mouth’s dropped slack without her even having to try, so desperate is she for what Lawrence is about to tell her. Ellie’s beside her equally expectant and anticipative, and Lawrence laughs at the pair of them before she continues. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“It was the pair of us and Tia...Christ, when was it...cannae mind. Think you’d gone home for the weekend and Ellie was doing something wi’ Bims...anyway, coupla’ bottles of wine in and we start playing wee stupid games. We’re doing snog, marry, avoid and Tia gives her...fuck, cannae even remember. Let’s say it was Ellie, Bimini and you. Now I can’t remember what she said for the other two <em>but</em>…” Lawrence pauses dramatically, and A’whora is a hair’s breadth away from practically begging her for the information she’s taking so long to impart. “...she said she would marry you because then she’d get to shag you more than just once.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora doesn’t think her eyes can go any wider but she somehow manages it. She doesn’t really know how to react but Ellie’s doing enough screaming to suffice for the two of them. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“When the fuck were you gonna tell us that?! Fuck, I can’t believe you never told <em>me</em> that! When did this happen?!” Ellie practically screeches in her face. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Telt you I cannae mind! Maybe like...a month ago? I don’t know,” Lawrence supplies unhelpfully. Usually A’whora would try to rip the piss out of the way her accent’s gone ten times more Braveheart than usual after her series of drinks, but all she can think about is what she’s been told and, well...she can’t help the butterflies in her heart and the way a satisfied, triumphant grin spreads slowly onto her face. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Ellie’s equally as excited beside her. She whacks A’whora on the arm as she squeals with enthusiasm. “See! Now we know she likes you too!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora feels as if she’s made of glitter and confetti as she spins around in the direction of the bar. Her heart gives a dip on its rollercoaster of emotions as she sees that Tayce has somehow caught the attention of a different girl- long, dark hair and a blue and orange outfit and a mouth that’s moving at about a mile a minute. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>There’s a second before A’whora makes to turn away in disappointment when Tayce’s pupils suddenly flick over to rest on her. Tayce’s self-assured expression and body language seem to falter when she catches A’whora’s eye, and she shoots her a little smile that- if A’whora didn’t know the girl better- she’d say was shy. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Now the challenge is actually getting a chance to talk to her,” A’whora pouts. Chatting up Tayce and maybe getting to fall into bed with her really isn’t a time-sensitive issue; it doesn’t <em>need </em>to happen tonight, but A’whora’s had a chaotic combination of alcohol that makes her think there’s really no time like the present and hey, maybe this <em>is</em> her one and only chance. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Well, we can keep an eye on her and when she’s free, then that’s your chance,” Ellie smiles, supportive and excited.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“What chat-up line are you gonnae use? I’ve got a cracker you can have if you want,” Lawrence insists, and A’whora and Ellie share a doubtful look.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Go on.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“What did one haggis say to the other haggis?” Lawrence begins. Without giving the other girls a chance to interject, she finishes. “...’Gonnae shaggis?’ ”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“And on that note,” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes, taking both of them by the hand and pulling them into the crowd to join their other friends. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>It’s amazing how easy it is to forget about the object of her affection chatting to random girls on the other side of the room when Bimini’s grabbing her and almost launching her across the dancefloor with their euphoric pogo-ing along to each and every song that gets played. The five of them drunkenly <em>bum-ba-ba, bum-ba-ba</em> along to <em>Head &amp; Heart </em>and cheer for Tia when she does Nicki’s rap in <em>Swalla </em>without even stopping for breath. A’whora laughs in confusion with the other girls as Lawrence and Ellie get way too excited, squealing and clutching each others’ hands when some clubland tune that’s apparently much bigger in Scotland than it is in the other three corners of the UK gets put on, the lyrics of which seem to consist solely of the words <em>up-up-up and awayyy. </em>Bimini and Lawrence collect more drinks from the bar and A’whora very nearly knocks Ellie’s out of her hand when <em>Friday</em> comes on and she punches the air. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>And then Tayce is on her own. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora’s heart almost siezes up with how fast it jolts into full-blown palpitations because this is the moment she can finally go over and talk to her, the chance to turn their friendship into maybe something more even if that something more is only a random hookup after a night out, but it only takes the time for her to shake Ellie’s arm and point in Tayce’s direction for her to see that, yet again, she’s been approached by someone tall and confident and stunning and everything that A’whora wishes Tayce thought about her. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Her face falls and Ellie snaps her fingers in her line of vision, forcing her to look at her and the motherly expression of tough love she’s wearing. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Hey. When has anyone ever stopped you getting your own way?” she yells at her over the music, and A’whora laughs half in amusement and half in agreement. As she falls silent, Ellie jerks her head towards the bar. “Go get her, bitch.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>It might be the alcohol, but it hits A’whora with a ironically sobering clarity that Ellie’s <em>right</em>. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>So she takes a breath in and struts confidently over to the bar, practically able to feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins (although that could well be the caffeine from the second Jaegerbomb she’s downed this evening with Bimini’s encouragement). She smooths down her skirt so the split runs up the front of her thigh and not the side, adjusts the neck of her top so it’s framing her chest the way she wants it to. She could be nervous but the combined alcohol she’s drunk so far this evening pushes that feeling to the back of her head, replacing it with all-consuming confidence that she can feel from the inside out. She looks good, better than good, and she knows she can flirt even though she’s never really tried to flirt with Tayce. Well, never intentionally. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Okay, that’s maybe a lie.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>The realisation that she’s actually going through with this is enough to make her want to freeze to the spot but by some miracle she’s still walking forward until she’s three, two, one steps away from her flatmate and the girl at the bar with too much plastic surgery and hair the shade of a vomit-coloured highlighter pen. A’whora wedges her shoulder in between the pair of them, hears the girl give a little tut/sigh hybrid from behind her but A’whora’s not really interested in bickering with her, not when Tayce’s eyes have fallen on her and she’s looking at her, <em>really</em> looking at her with a little playful smile on her painted lips. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Hey baby boo,” Tayce says by way of a greeting, and A’whora feels her heart melt just a little. She’s being adorable, but she’s not going to let that damage her confident, composed exterior. Until Tayce follows up by running a hand down her arm and lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t seen you all night, I missed you.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>With that, A’whora feels the little cocky smirk she’s wearing break out into a shy grin, one that she hopes doesn’t look as ridiculously goofy as it feels. “Well. Maybe you would’ve seen more of me if you hadn’t been playing Take Me Out with half the bloody girls in here.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Who, me?” Tayce gasps, clutching the gold chain around her neck and pretending to be affronted. A’whora doesn’t mean to roll her eyes but she clearly does, and the small giggle she draws out of Tayce as a result makes it almost worth it. The squeeze Tayce gives her hand turns that <em>almost</em> into a <em>definitely, </em>as does what Tayce follows up with. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“You’re cute...all the time,” A’whora claps back, wishing she had some sort of drink in her hand to press against her face as she feels her blush start to bloom across her cheeks. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I know, babe, that’s why I’ve been getting my drinks bought for me all night,” Tayce winks. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>If Awhora uses that as a signal to pull her bank card from her bra, that’s nobody’s business but her own. The way Tayce’s gaze flicks to her chest lights a match in her heart. “Well...let me buy you one and then you won’t have to miss me so much.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce’s awed smile spreads slowly onto her face and they agree on tequila shots, the phase of the evening where they were nursing their drinks left firmly in the dust as the bartender hands them a salt shaker, two little shot glasses and two wedges of lime. The way Tayce’s tongue slides over the side of her hand before she sprinkles the salt and the way their eyes meet as she licks it up makes A’whora’s mouth dry, so the tequila’s welcome for a split second before she remembers why she hates it, the flavour and sheer strength of the alcohol akin to being hit by a truck.  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>As she grabs desperately for the lime like it’s an oxygen mask on a crash-landing plane, Tayce laughs and shakes her head pityingly. “You always end up ordering tequila and you always, <em>always</em> hate it.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora blinks as she composes herself, gives a little shiver of recovery. She cocks her head at Tayce inquisitively. “I didn't know you remembered that.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce looks to the ground as she smiles, tucks a piece of her long hair behind her ear. It’s endearing and soft and it makes A’whora panic, so she presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow at Tayce questioningly. “So, how'd your little episode of Blind Date go anyway?"</p>

<p> </p>

<p>"Gosh, you're really pressed about this, aren't you?" Tayce's eyes are narrow as she smirks at her, and now it's A'whora's turn to look embarrassed. The soft laugh Tayce gives is reassuring so A'whora's gaze drifts back up again and their eyes meet as she speaks again. “Well, there was, uh...blonde lady. Blonde lady with the muscles and the eyeliner. God, what was her name?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“This is off to a flying start.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Kameron!” Tayce yells in her face as she remembers. It makes A’whora snort with laughter, something that’s probably wildly unattractive but she knows Tayce has seen her do it before. “And then there was, uh, Priyanka. I remember her name because she kept telling me every two minutes. That was a wild conversation.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Uh-huh. Who was the bitch I elbowed out the way?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce smirks at her, wobbles a little in her heels and steadies herself against the bar. “That was...Detox.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Radox?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce splutters. “Detox!”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Should’ve called herself Botox, would’ve been nearer to the mark,” A’whora turns up her top lip. Tayce explodes in an outraged laugh beside her, clutches her wrist in a way that makes A’whora hope she won’t be able to feel her rapid pulse. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Says Aurora Georgia Boyle, who asked for <em>lip fillers </em>for her eighteenth and was actually allowed to get them!” </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Don’t full name me, piece of shit!” A’whora gasps in mock-offence, shakes herself away from Tayce’s grip but finds her inexplicably nearer to her than she was before. She’s not necessarily complaining, though, because her whole left side is against Tayce’s right and there’s some form of other-worldly magnetism that seems to keep them pressed together. It makes her heart flutter so she tucks a section of hair behind her ear before she frowns. “I never told you that. How come you know that?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“You did tell me! Back in freshers week! You just don’t remember,” Tayce giggles, poking her cheek with one acrylic nail. It should hurt more than it does. Maybe it does hurt and A’whora can’t feel it. She’s had a lot to drink. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>It’s the alcohol she blames when she hooks an arm around Tayce’s waist, tilts her head and drops her volume to a murmur. “You seem to remember a lot of things about me.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce’s eyes widen just that little bit. “Well you’re a bit of an unforgettable person, really.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Her words make A’whora’s heart light up so much that she can feel herself glowing from the inside out. She brings her other arm around Tayce in a tight hug, her hands joining at the small of her back, and Tayce mirrors her so they’re both anchoring each other. It’s hard for her to remember whether they’ve ever shared a hug like this before. It seems too intimate for friends, but A’whora doesn’t mind.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Tayce.” </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Rory,” Tayce replies, mimicking her whine and the way she draws her name out. A’whora likes the nickname she gives her probably more than she should; she supposes it’s because only Tayce uses it and because it’s rooted in her actual given name. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora pouts, squeezes Tayce’s waist. “I missed you tonight, you know.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Missed you too. Missed you so much,” Tayce murmurs back. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>She’s already said it, A’whora knows she’s already said it, but with the way they’re both gazing at each other it seems to mean something more, something different. It’s ridiculous- they’re both drunk, and famously no good decisions have ever happened when two people have had this many assorted shots, but somehow it feels like all of this is just <em>right</em>.  </p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora drops her head to rest it on Tayce’s shoulder and she feels her arms tighten around her in response. Her lips graze her neck as she murmurs against it. “Not leaving me again.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>There’s a pause where she can’t really see Tayce’s expression or how she’s reacted. Her heart freezes, and the terror and reality of having crossed the line between friendship and whatever the hell this is suddenly consumes her whole body. She’s relieved, then, when Tayce eventually mutters against the crown of her head. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“All yours, baby.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>And she presses a kiss to her hair. Just like A’whora’s been dreaming about for so long. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>She feels giddy and dizzy with absolute euphoria, so it’s that she blames when she puts her lips against Tayce’s neck again and plants one, two, three little kisses there in quick succession. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Tayce,” she whispers. She doesn’t really know what she wants to say or how to say it, but she knows she doesn’t want to go back to the dancefloor, and she doesn’t want to be with their other friends. She just wants her and Tayce together for however long she’ll let it be that way, and she doesn’t even care about the busy bar or the drunk students that bump into them every so often or the stares from the rowdy group of rugby lads that would usually make her feel intimidated, but not when she’s with Tayce. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>When she’s with Tayce everything seems a little bit better somehow, just by her being there.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>So maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the tequila, or maybe it’s the feeling of having Tayce’s arms around her that makes A’whora tilt her head back up again and meet Tayce’s waiting lips with her own. There’s none of the usual hesitation or awkward pause that comes with kissing someone new because really the amount of times A’whora’s imagined this, dreamt about it, thought about it in daydreams that completely unhook her from reality, it’s as if it’s happened before. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Nothing has prepared her for the real thing though. How Tayce brings a hand up to rest at her jaw and how the other stays placed against the bare skin of her back, warm and supportive. How the both of them sway a little, unsteady in their heels as if they’ve been knocked for six. How Tayce’s body is close against hers and A’whora pushes a hand in her hair in an attempt to somehow bring her even closer. How kissing Tayce leaves her breathtaken and satisfied yet somehow amplifies her feeling of longing, because the more she gives to her the more A’whora wants and with every second that Tayce’s lips are on hers she can only feel the heat that’s pooling in her stomach growing more and more intense. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>When Tayce pulls away and A’whora can only catch her breath, she fixes her with a lazy, half-lidded smile that makes her insides turn to melted honey. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“That was nice,” she blinks, and she’s a second away from kicking herself- because, <em>really?- </em>when Tayce giggles softly under her breath. She brushes a little piece of A’whora’s hair off her face, and the gentleness of the action throws her a little. A’whora brings her arms up to loop around her neck, and she leans in close again. “I wanna do it again.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I want to do...a lot of things. With you,” Tayce says, casual and chill as if her words haven’t just sent A’whora up in flames. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Like…?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Like...maybe come back to mine and I’ll show you, baby.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>The whole moment’s perfect enough for A’whora to almost overlook the blunder Tayce has just made, but her nature dictates that she can’t let her get away with it. “We...we live together.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce lets out a snort, bumps her forehead against A’whora’s as she despairs of herself. “Right. Well...we gonna go home, then?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora doesn’t need to be asked twice. She laces her fingers in Tayce’s, resolves to text the others to tell them they’ve left, and stumbles towards the exit with her heart thumping wildly in her chest. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>When she blinks, she’s tired, she’s in bed, it’s bright, and she’s confused as all hell. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>The headache hits her like a sledgehammer to the face and she blinks slowly and heavily, adjusting herself to her surroundings. She’s in her own room, she can tell that much from the photos of her and her friends from back home on the cupboard and the fairy lights on her desk that aren’t switched on. Her mouth feels like a badger’s shat in it and her eyes are all achey, and as she throws an arm up to rub at them she’s surprised when she doesn’t see any leftover eye makeup on the back of her hand. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“The kraken awakes.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora flinches, her head whipping over to the foot of her bed to find Tayce sitting cross-legged leaning against the wall, her phone in her hand. She’s wearing her old leggings with the bleach stains and the hole at the calf, and a purple tie-dye sweatshirt that’s a size too big for her. Her hair’s loose and framing her face and the only makeup she has on is the little scattering of eyeliner that’s hanging tight to her lash line and has managed to escape the makeup wipe. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>She looks disarmed and shy. There’s something comforting about it, because A’whora feels confused and completely on the back foot and she has no idea what’s going on. But there’s a warm smile on her face and it meets her eyes, so despite her disorientation A’whora feels safe. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“How long’ve you been there? Were you just watching me sleep like some...creepy Twilight vampire?” A’whora groans, sitting up and leaning forward and taking a deep breath as if it’ll make her headache go away. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce laughs in a way that makes A’whora think the question’s flustered her, but she’s not sure. “The others went to get breakfast. I said I’d stay with you. Didn’t want you to be on your own feeling like shit and maybe having the fear.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I <em>am</em> having the fear. I don’t even know how we got home.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>The way Tayce’s face drops in what looks like abject panic makes her wonder what <em>did</em> happen last night. “Wait. What do you actually remember?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora’s heart is racing as she scans her mind for memories. Pres, club, drinks, booth. Tayce talking to some girl. Dancefloor. Tayce. Talking to Tayce. Kissing Tayce-</p>

<p> </p>

<p><em>Kissing Tayce. </em></p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Oh, no,” A’whora blurts out involuntarily. Her eyes are wide as she looks at Tayce. “We...did we? We did?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce’s face seems to relax as she bursts out laughing, and it all comes flooding back to A’whora and hits her like a train. Everything that had seemed like such a good idea last night now seems like the most awkward situation in the world now that Tayce is here, on her bed, and they’re both sober. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Tayce, no,” A’whora whines, putting her head in her hands as her friend keeps laughing. “No! That’s so awkward. I’m so sorry.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Don’t be sorry, it was a good kiss,” Tayce smiles back, somehow both coy and self-assured at once. It’s her reaction that causes a new wave of cold horror to crash against A’whora, a wave on a rock. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Oh, Jesus. Did anything else happen?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce grows animated. “God, yeah, we had the best sex ever. Sixty-nines, scissoring, we got the vibrators involved. It was bloody lush.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora’s too hungover to realise that Tayce is winding her up until she screeches with laughter right in her horrified face. “Oh my God, Rory, your face! No I’m joking, ‘course I’m joking.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Thank fuck,” A’whora sighs a world-weary sigh of relief, throwing herself back down against her pillows and immediately regretting it for the way her brain ricochets against her skull and makes her headache ten times worse. “So what did happen?”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Well, you wanted to walk back because you wanted to look at the stars, so when we got to the square we lay down and looked at the stars for a bit. And then I wanted to go get chips and cheese but you were dragging me back home because you were so horny,” Tayce looks at her pointedly, and A’whora groans with embarrassment, grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her face. “But then after we got up the stairs and in through the door you said you felt sick, so I then had to hold your hair back while you threw up last night’s pasta bake and what looked to be about fifty different kinds of alcohol into the toilet bowl. Then I had to put you to bed and stay up half the night making sure you didn’t choke on your own tongue while you were asleep. Best one night stand I’ve ever had.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>When A’whora takes the pillow away, Tayce winks at her. She feels like putting the pillow back. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“I’m honestly so sorry,” she pouts. She <em>is</em> sorry. Part of her wishes she could at least properly remember what it had felt like to kiss Tayce. All the memories of the moment are much too paper-thin and flimsy, butterfly wings that’re all too rapidly flying away. Tayce isn’t giving her any cause to be embarrassed, but A’whora is anyway. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>So she’s not sure what Tayce is going to say when she leans forward, takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Go brush your teeth.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora thinks she might be the first person in history to have <em>cause of death: cringe</em> written on her birth certificate. “You’re really adding insult to injury, aren’t you? Telling me all the embarrassing shit I did while I was off my face and then basically telling me my breath smells like dog shite.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce laughs as she shakes her head. “Just go do it, idiot.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>She’s never been one to say no to Tayce so A’whora drags herself out from under her duvet towards the little sink tucked away in the corner of her room, the cold chill of the freezing air hitting her bare arms and her feet and rendering her even more miserable. It’s only when she’s halfway through scrubbing at her teeth when it registers that she’s even got pyjamas on.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>“Did you have to put my pyjamas on for me?” A’whora asks around her toothbrush, realising all too late that trying to talk through a mouthful of toothpaste is probably as unattractive as vomiting into the toilet bowl. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>(The toilet bowl is definitely worse, but she’s just thinking this to help herself feel better.)</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce looks up from her phone and raises an eyebrow. “Nah, you managed to do it yourself. You did make me watch you put your stick-on bra on your forehead, though. Apparently it was the funniest thing in the world.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>A’whora just groans as she turns back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and following it with mouthwash just to completely clean her mouth of the various alcoholic sins of the night before. She crawls back into bed with a wearied sigh, and she’s surprised when Tayce falls on her side and scoots up beside her, laying on her side and facing her so their noses are almost touching. A’whora feels her heart lift and her pulse speed up, and it’s not helped by the way Tayce reaches out and tucks a little piece of hair behind her ear.   </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce trails her fingers across to cup A’whora’s cheek, and she’s almost whispering when she speaks. “Thank God. Just wanted to do this again.”</p>

<p> </p>

<p>When she leans in A’whora shuts her eyes, meets her halfway, and feels every cell in her body electrify when their lips touch. If kissing Tayce in a club when they were both drunk was good, then kissing her hungover in bed is somehow even better, and A’whora’s mystified at the way her headache seems to completely disappear with every second she spends with her lips on Tayce’s, kissing her gently and softly as if they’ve got all the time in the world. Tayce smells of everything comforting- Tresemme shampoo, snow fairy shower gel, the fabric softener she uses that’s way too expensive for a student budget. Fresh and clean and somehow new. It’s the simplest heaven A’whora has ever experienced. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tayce pulls away and they both giggle, embarrassment and awkwardness gone now that the elephant in the room’s been addressed. A’whora only realises Tayce has taken her hand when she lets it go, pushes herself off the mattress and crosses the room towards the door. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“We should do that again some time,” she smiles wickedly by way of a goodbye, and A’whora can only nod bashfully in reply and agreement. Tayce has given her hope to hold on to, and she knows she’s going to cling to it ridiculously until whatever this is happens again. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>She can’t wait. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Just as Tayce opens her door and A’whora resigns herself to her leaving, she lifts her head off the pillow when she hears her flatmate’s voice again as she disappears into the hallway. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>“And go have a shower. You smell like tequila.”</p>

<p><br/>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. september- i can't remember when we met</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>On a damp, bright Saturday in September, six flatmates move into their student flat and meet for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HI, WOW, thank u everyone so so much for all the love, honestly it's so appreciated. i truly cherish every kudos and comment so thank u all so much, u are so kind. i hope you like this new chapter! we're going all the way back to September for this one, so hope u all enjoy the origin story of our fav flatmates xo </p><p>(p.s. because i'm, well, me, i've started a playlist for this fic. it's here if you want it: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0dy7ViVaUt5oyCm2Qd2Ayp?si=goHxSu-6T8SBX_LEdT7Exg  )</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>It’s a damp, bright day when Tayce arrives in the city for the first time. </p><p> </p><p>She’s been here before- once when she was eight and again for the open day- but today it’s as if she’s seeing everything through fresh eyes. The sunshine on the puddles on the pavement gives everything a sparkle and a kind of magic, and the blue sky that pokes out from the jagged edges and roofs of stone buildings fills her with a sense of excitement and optimism. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve been on the road since nine in the morning and awake since seven, and Tayce should be tired, shattered even, but she feels energised and alive as she peers out the passenger window and drinks in every last little detail of the place she’s going to be calling home for the next few years: the cobbled roads that make her Mum worry about the car’s suspension, the way the streets and roads seem to snake, dip and overlap over each other in a series of bridges and tunnels that make it almost impossible to navigate, every single little cafe and boutique and restaurant and office and kebab shop. The signs for places she’s never heard of and the buses on their way there.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing can dull her excitement when they pull up on the narrow, hilled street where her block of flats are hiding, not even her Dad almost having a nervous breakdown at the wheel about the lack of parking. They decide to throw caution to the wind and park on the double yellow lines outside, her parents hurriedly helping her with her heavy, stuffed suitcase and the bin bag with all her bedding in it and walking with her as she not so much trundles but drags her things through the gates into the courtyard. Tayce takes in her surroundings with darting eyes, too much to drink in at once. There’s a high stone wall in the far left-hand corner and what looks to be the laundry room on the ground floor of the building beside it. A few scrubs of plants lined with bricks are dotted around the courtyard, where a few students are already sitting smoking. The rest of the buildings that hem them in are tall with little windows dotted all over them, and each side is painted a different colour: white, powder blue, or coral red. It’s an interesting combination but Tayce supposes she doesn’t have to look all too long or all too hard at the outside of the building if she's going to be living inside it. </p><p> </p><p>There’s some little tables set up outside with uni staff manning them, so Tayce leaves her parents with her things while she goes over to pick up her keys. It’s not a long process- she gives her name and she gets handed two keys (which she’s told are her room key and her flat key) with a keyring on them, a messy scribble that reads <em>block 4, flat 10, room 2 </em>with a four-digit code for the front door of the block<em>.</em> A welcome pack gets thrust into her other hand, and she’s sent on her way with an “enjoy freshers!”.    </p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take the three of them long to find block four, but they’re instantly dismayed to find out that flat ten is on the top floor and there’s no elevator. Tayce’s Dad is left to carry her suitcase up each flight of stairs while her Mum takes the bin bag and casts a judgemental eye over each floor of the echoey stairwell, clearly nervous about leaving her oldest child in the care of five strangers who could all very well be psychopaths. </p><p> </p><p>“Mum,” Tayce cocks an eyebrow at her, reaching out to loop her arm through hers as they reach the top floor and the door of her flat. “I’ll be fine, okay? I’m a smart, sensible, responsible, gorgeous young lady. You did a great job raising me, I’ll be fucking golden, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Watch your language, missus,” her Mum warns her, and Tayce stops herself from rolling her eyes and arguing about the fact that she’s about to begin her actual journey towards adulthood in favour of giving her Mum’s arm a squeeze of apology. “Of course you’ll be fine, I know you’ll be fine. You’re still my baby, though, I’m allowed to worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Tayce smiles sheepishly, looking down at her phone at the message she’s got from her sister. Opening it, she ends up snorting with laughter and beckoning her Dad over to look. “You should probably be more worried about what these three are getting up to with Gran, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit in the kettle,” her Mum exhales exasperatedly as she looks at the photo on the screen- Tayce’s sister mid-scream in the garden, as her two brothers and her Gran appear to be in the middle of a silly-string fight. Tayce is doubled over as her Mum turns to her Dad, insisting that she <em>knew</em> they should’ve taken them all on the journey up. Tayce is inclined to agree- she knows there wouldn’t have been space for all of them as well as her huge suitcase, but her family are close and she’s used to doing everything together. As much as she’s excited for uni, it’s going to be weird living somewhere other than her big crazy, busy house in Newport, with constant noise and bustle and the walls almost bursting at the seams with love.</p><p> </p><p>If she thinks about it too much though she’ll end up getting emotional, so she pulls her keys out of the pocket of her jacket and flips her hair over her shoulder, because it’ll make things easier for her parents if they think she’s as confident and self-assured as she seems. “Besides, I’m sure the girls I’ll be living with will all have their heads screwed on alright.”</p><p> </p><p>As she turns the key in the lock and opens the door, she’s met with a loud blast of music from the hallway that almost physically knocks her back a bit. Tayce turns to her Mum and Dad, smiling tightly as if to urge them not to let the loud music discredit the point she’s made. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” Tayce yells into the hallway, tentatively approaching the first room where the door’s open and that the music is blaring out of. When there’s no answer she peers through the doorframe, a little nervous. Inside there’s a single bed, a cupboard, a set of drawers, a desk, and a bedside table all in the same pale wood-effect colour. There’s also a sink, a mirror, and a window. It’s all a very basic set of furniture, but the girl inside the room is livening the surroundings up a bit. Her hair falls in bouncy brown curls that rest on her shoulders, with a purple ribbon that snakes through them and is tied in a bow at her parting. She’s pale with dark eyebrows but the little absent-minded smile on her face goes some way to assuage Tayce’s nerves, and she’s humming along with her music as she unpacks her clothes from the suitcase she’s heaved onto the bed.   </p><p> </p><p>(It occurs to Tayce, as a result of the fact that Madonna is playing and that the girl’s wearing a red flannel shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted Mom jeans, that at least she won’t be the only lesbian in the flat.)</p><p> </p><p>It’s the relief that prompts Tayce to yell out a “<em>hey!”</em>, which in turn makes the girl in the room yelp and snap her head around to face her, her mouth set in a slack-jawed expression of surprise which quickly melts into one of relief. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck me sideways, I just about shat myself there!” she laughs loudly, immediately turning down her music. “Oh my God, hi babes! I’ve got a flatmate, finally! We gettin’ pished or what?” </p><p> </p><p>Tayce bursts out laughing, darts her eyes to her Mum and Dad’s slightly horrified expressions from further down the hall. “Bit early for that, nah?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s never too early in Scotland!” the girl cackles, approaching Tayce and immediately giving her a hug. “Hey flatmate, I’m Lawrence! Do you want a drink?”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce keeps trying not to laugh but fails when Lawrence looks out into the hall and sees Tayce’s Mum and Dad, her face immediately falling in embarrassment. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Hi, Mr and Mrs Flatmate! I’m Lawrence!” </p><p> </p><p>Tayce snorts at the way her Dad gives her a resigned wave and how her Mum’s face is the picture of grimaced concern. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Tayce. That’s my Mum and Dad,” she introduces. Then, slightly embarrassed about the fact she’s got her parents with her, follows it up with, “But they’ll be leaving soon anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>She hears a muttered "<em>charming"</em> from her Dad. </p><p> </p><p>“What room’ve you got?” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Tayce checks her keyring, reminding herself. “Two.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s next to me!” Lawrence says enthusiastically, banging on the wall at her side as if to make her point. “Here, I’ll let you go get unpacked and say goodbye to the fam and we'll chat after that, awright? I’ll see you after.”</p><p> </p><p>“See you in a bit,” Tayce replies, trundling her suitcase down the hall as her parents follow her. As she unlocks the door to her room, she turns to them and smiles encouragingly. “See? She seems nice!”</p><p> </p><p>Her Mum’s raised eyebrows prompt her not to push things.</p><p> </p><p>Tayce’s room is identical to Lawrence’s- the furniture’s all in the same positions and all in the same style. A little further down the corridor past the other bedrooms is the kitchen and living-room area, which her Mum runs her fingers over to check it’s been cleaned properly. When it’s been established she’s satisfied with it the three of them return to Tayce’s room, empty apart from her belongings. The blank canvas fills her with a little tingle of excitement at the possibility of getting to decorate it all to make it properly hers, chill and cosy just like her room at home. When she thinks about home again, though, it makes her want to burst out crying and never stop, so she turns around to her parents and takes a little breath, fixing a smile onto her face. </p><p> </p><p>“Well! I guess you two can leave me to get up to all sorts of mischief now. Drink beer upside-down from a tube or...whatever happens here.” </p><p> </p><p>Her Mum tearfully laughs and it becomes even harder to stop herself getting upset. She asks Tayce if she wants she and her Dad to stay to help her get unpacked or if she wants to go for some food anywhere, but Tayce’s Dad, stoic as ever, says what Tayce wants to but won’t in case she hurts her Mum’s feelings- that Tayce will want to talk to her flatmate, and she won’t want her parents hanging around for too long. </p><p> </p><p>So they hug goodbye tightly with tears in their eyes and snuffly noses, Tayce promising to phone every week (but she’ll probably get so homesick that it’ll be more frequent than that). She feels guilty as all hell waving her parents off down the stairs, as if she’s leaving some well-loved pet behind at a rehoming centre, but she tries to push down her emotions in favour of the small rush of excitement that’s beginning to bubble up through the upset- she’s here, it’s <em>uni</em>, it’s <em>freshers</em>, this big event that’s been built up so much in her mind. </p><p> </p><p>She hopes it lives up to the hype. </p><p> </p><p>It’s when she closes the front door that she hears a movement behind her, a series of small thuds against the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“Right! You wanting a drink now?”</p><p> </p><p>Lawrence sits in Tayce’s room while she unpacks and they talk like old friends. There’s not really any awkwardness with Lawrence; she’s outgoing and energetic and knows how to hold a conversation. Because of this, Tayce would’ve guessed she’d be studying something to do with film and TV, but it turns out she’s studying textiles and she gets excited when Tayce tells her she’s studying fine art because they’ll both have lectures at the art college. Lawrence is seventeen which shakes nineteen-year-old Tayce to her core, and they have a huge discussion about how the hell they’re both starting uni at the same time when there’s such a disparity in age between them. It turns out that the answer is Tayce taking a year out to decide what she wanted to do with her life after sixth form, and a Scottish school system that lets kids start school at the age of four. Lawrence doesn’t seem worried that her inability to get into clubs will hinder her freshers’ week, as she’s got a friend who’s in second year and is letting her borrow her ID for the week (Lawrence's post-9pm alias for the next seven days is named Rosé McCorkell).</p><p> </p><p>“How come you didn’t just take a year out and wait til you were eighteen?” Tayce asks, taking a sip of peach schnapps from one of the plastic tumblers Lawrence has offered her. </p><p> </p><p>“Because I didn’t want to,” Lawrence shrugs, and Tayce raises her eyebrows in a <em>fair enough</em>. “I wanted to leave home- not in a bad way, but I was just bored. You’d be too if you lived there.”</p><p> </p><p>Lawrence is from Helensburgh, a town Tayce has never heard of but apparently has a Waitrose and that’s about it. This indicates to Tayce that Helensburgh is a town full of Tories. No wonder Lawrence was in such a rush to get away.</p><p> </p><p>Her parents seem like they’re the cool kind of parents. They dropped her off at the flat at two in the afternoon with her suitcase and a Sainsbury’s bag full of alcohol for the week (hence the reason she has so much for someone who can’t legally buy it). Her Dad doesn’t <em>really</em> agree with what she’s decided to study, because apparently she got the grades for something like Law or Medicine and he wanted her to do something where she was guaranteed stability and a career. In response to this Lawrence apparently sent off five different applications to five different art schools in one of the most silent, passive-aggressive fuck you-s in history.</p><p> </p><p>Tayce can relate to this. She tells Lawrence what it was like to have finally decided on something to do at uni, only to be met with “are you <em>really</em> sure?” and “do you think that’s wise?” and “but what will you <em>do</em> with that?”. They moan about how it’s so frustrating to have to justify wanting to study something when really the only desire comes from just finding it interesting, or fun, or being passionate about it. </p><p> </p><p>They’re about to launch into a conversation about what each of their experiences at school had been like (stemming from a story Lawrence told her about telling her guidance counsellor to get fucked when he suggested she should train to be a teacher) when there’s a commotion out in the hall, which in turn makes the two of them run to the doorframe in excitement. They find two new flatmates laughing and grappling with their suitcases which appear to have become stuck in the small hallway: one with straight, flowing dark hair that hangs over her shoulders, dark makeup, leopard print sweatpants and an excitable smile on her face, and the other with a chaotic blonde bun that looks as if they’ve slept in it, a black bralet underneath a denim jacket, and a little Kate Moss-esque gap in their teeth when they smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Here! You wantin’ a hand with those?” Lawrence yells, and the two newbies give a shriek of delight, abandoning their suitcases and climbing over them to hug their two new flatmates. </p><p> </p><p>They talk at about a mile a minute as they introduce themselves and pile into Tayce's bedroom, uninvited but by no means unwelcome. Leopard-print sweatpants’ name is Tia and bun-head’s name is Bimini. In a spooky twist of fate it turns out that their seats happened to be opposite each other on the train up, and they got talking and realised they were both going to be at the same uni, in the same accomodation, and in the same flat. They’ve been excited and a little drunk ever since, Bimini tells them, the trolley on the train acting as a mobile bar for the pair of them to order endless amounts of prosecco and toast to their new friendship. </p><p> </p><p>Lawrence and Tayce decide to let the pair drop their things in each of their rooms, while they relocate to the kitchen which is much bigger. Lawrence sets all her alcohol out on the rickety dining table while Tayce thuds herself down on one of the purple sofas, looking out of the adjacent window and taking in the views out onto the buildings and streets below. She’ll go exploring tomorrow, get her bearings a bit. Tonight is for getting silly with her new flatmates and sussing them all out. She’s lucky, though, that they all seem nice enough so far. </p><p> </p><p>“They seem nice, don’t they? The other two,” Tayce turns to Lawrence and verbalises what she's thinking, and Lawrence nods in agreement as she crosses over to the sofa and takes her cup to refill it. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I think we’ve got lucky, to be honest, My friend in second year- that one whose ID I'm borrowing- she's told me total horror stories about weirdo flatmates.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve still got two to arrive, there’s still time,” Tayce considers with a snort, and Lawrence shrugs in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>Bimini emerges first, wedging the fire extinguisher against the kitchen door to prop it open so that any of the other new flatmates arriving will instantly know where they are. Lawrence shoves a tumbler into their hand like some sort of bartender and they all squash onto the sofas as they chat to their new flatmate. Bimini is another one who’s glad to get out of their hometown, and has come to uni to study journalism. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve already got the fucked sleeping pattern and constant hangover, so I’m halfway there,” they say almost proudly, their accent making Tayce laugh in spite of herself. </p><p> </p><p>Tia joins them all as Bimini’s halfway through a rant about how hard it was to try and sort accommodation for uni, which the other girls agree with. </p><p> </p><p>“They seemed to think I could commute from Helensburgh to here every day,” Lawrence rolls her eyes, and Bimini laughs in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>“Well I had a fuckin’ nightmare as well. They tried putting me in a twelve-person flat at first-”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not a flat, that’s a fuckin’ small village!”</p><p> </p><p>“Right! So then they kept trying to shoehorn me into an all-boys flat, because fuck, I don’t know...they heard the words ‘non-binary’ and thought ‘man’ I guess?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus,” Tayce wrinkles her nose up. She can’t think of anything worse than having to share with a bunch of guys. No wonder Bimini didn’t want to.</p><p> </p><p>Bimini laughs ruefully as they finish their story. “In the end I rang them up and said look, what do you want...do you want me to scan you a picture of my fuckin’ genitals? Why are you so obsessed, love, just give me the fuckin’ flat I want before I pass out!”</p><p> </p><p>“I never thought how annoying that must be. You know, the whole all-girl flats and all-boy flats,” Tia muses, Tayce nodding in agreement. Bimini waves a dismissive hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, don’t get me wrong, I’m sort of glad they exist. I mean I already know I’m gonna like living here with you lot way more than a bunch of rugby lads who barely understand the concept of women, never mind me,” Bimini smiles, and the fact they’re already feeling positive about the flat makes Tayce’s heart warm. She feels the same- she’s getting good vibes from her flatmates already, and they’re doing wonders to offset the rumbling feeling of homesickness she’s pushed to the back of her mind. </p><p> </p><p>Talk turns to Tia, who’s travelled all the way up from Essex. She’s studying computer science and is, in her own words, excited to turn up to her lectures and remind everyone that women exist. She’s another girl who’s come to uni straight from school, and from the sounds of it Tia couldn’t wait to leave. Essex girls- or at least the ones in Tia’s year- seemed to live up to the stereotype, and the fact that Tia didn’t walk around constantly caked in fake tan, lash extensions and heavy makeup made her a walking target for catty comments, poorly-concealed laughter and the occasional shove in the corridor. </p><p> </p><p>Tayce laments with the others about how mean people could be in school. She didn’t have things too bad, she considers. Tayce was well-liked and popular for the right reasons. She always made sure to be kind to everyone (because her Gran would’ve killed her if she wasn’t) and if she had any nasty comments to make she kept them strictly between her and her best friend Cara, who she knew wouldn’t spread things around. </p><p> </p><p>(She’s also the only person at school she came out to. She imagines her high school life would’ve been a lot different if she’d brought that into the mix.)</p><p> </p><p>They’ve moved on to discussing what they think uni life will be like (Bimini is particularly looking forward to getting to make pancakes for breakfast every day) when Tayce notices Lawrence’s gaze lock onto something behind Tayce’s head. Her face grows shocked and awed, and a massive smile starts to spread across it. As Tayce turns around she sees another girl standing at the doorway into the kitchen with a similar expression on her face. </p><p> </p><p>Tia, who’s sitting beside Lawrence, shoots the girl a smile and a wave. “Hey-”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, <em>fuck off!</em> Not you! Not <em>you!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce flinches as Lawrence leaps up from the sofa, running across the room to wrap the girl in a massive hug. Their height difference makes the hug look funny, as the new girl is <em>tall</em>. Tayce always thought <em>she</em> was tall, but this girl almost defies the laws of physics. In fact, everything about the girl seems to work in extremes- her blonde hair is so thick and full of volume that her curls seem to stick out at all angles, barely tamed by a pink scrunchie keeping half of it in order on the top of her head. Her makeup is bold and perfect, two sweeps of eyeliner framing her big eyes and pink eyeshadow dusted over her lids. Two huge heart-shaped purple earrings hang from her ears embossed with the word “<em>bitch</em>”, which skews Tayce’s first impression somewhat. But the girl is also in a full pink tie-dye Barbie tracksuit, so she can’t be all that mean.</p><p> </p><p>Lawrence finally releases her from the hug, and the girl’s laughing breathlessly as she continues to talk. “What are you actually <em>doing</em> here?”</p><p> </p><p>The girl splutters a laugh, shakes Lawrence by the shoulders. “Bitch! I live here! I’m moving in!”</p><p> </p><p>Lawrence gives a screech of excitement again, throwing her arms around the girl and swaying her from side to side. Tayce shares a look of bewildered amusement between Bimini and Tia, none of them any the wiser as to what’s going on. </p><p> </p><p>When Lawrence releases the girl again, she addresses the others this time. “Well, folks, it looks like we finally got a shatmate!”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck up!” the girl shoves her side, then dashes over to the sofas. “Hey! Nice to meet you all, I’m Ellie!”</p><p> </p><p>The others all get up to hug her excitedly and introduce themselves, happy that they’re all one step closer to having a full flat, and Ellie budges up in between Lawrence and Tia on the sofa opposite Tayce as she chats about herself and learns about the others. It turns out that she and Lawrence are old friends in the most bizarre coincidence ever. </p><p> </p><p>“Every Easter my family would go down to the Haven holiday park in Northumberland,” Ellie tells them the story, looking at Lawrence with a rueful smile on her face. “And we’d always get the same caravan. Well, my family got talking to the family in the caravan next door, and they had a daughter the same age as me and my brother. Turns out it was this cunt, wasn’t it!”</p><p> </p><p>Lawrence laughs, smacking Ellie on the arm. “We ended up going down at the same time every year! This was from when we were six right up until we were like, sixteen. And me and her and her brothers would cause absolute abject riots together. We’d spend all day in the arcade doing the dance mats-”</p><p> </p><p>“And we’d always thrash you because you were so shit!” Ellie squeals, the others laughing as Lawrence gives Ellie another thump. “I still remember when you kicked the poor guy in the Bradley Bear costume in the balls because I was so scared of him that I was crying!”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus Christ, we’re really kicking off with the embarrassing stories already,” Lawrence rolls her eyes, but from the little twinkle in them Tayce can tell she’s not really too bothered. </p><p> </p><p>Ellie’s another seventeen year old (Tayce makes some joke about Scotland’s school system sending infants to university) but she seems to have ordered a fake ID off some website and it looks legit enough, Tayce inspecting it as she passes it around proudly. She’s from a place called Broughty Ferry (“but it’s easier to just say Dundee”) which has a beach and a funfair and a caravan park. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s the posh part of Dundee, which is a bit of a juxtaposition in all honesty,” she explains, earning a blurt of a laugh from Bimini. </p><p> </p><p>Ellie’s the first in her family to go to university, and she’s studying costume design which makes Lawrence and Tayce excited about having someone else to walk over to the college of art with in the mornings. It turns out she’s got two brothers, one of which is her twin, and she and Tayce bond over how weird it’ll be to not be living with their siblings for the first time in their lives.  </p><p> </p><p>Tayce doesn’t know when the minutes turn to hours but they do, the sky outside gradually growing a little darker before she even realises it. In all honesty, she feels she’s got lucky with her flatmates; they all seem to be a good laugh and kind and normal enough. It’s odd, though, that there’s still the five of them. Tayce checks her phone and she sees that it’s gone seven. </p><p> </p><p>“Do we think the other girl’s going to come tomorrow?” she wonders out loud, as Tia tops up Ellie’s glass with the litre bottle of vodka she’s brought with her.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe? Bit weird not coming for the first night of freshers,” Ellie wrinkles her nose in disapproval. </p><p> </p><p>“Well maybe she’s got a long haul flight or something,” Tia shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope she’s not posh.”</p><p> </p><p>Ellie rolls her eyes and turns to her friend. “Lawrence, you think anyone that’s from anywhere south of Paisley is posh.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce snorts at Ellie’s delivery and Lawrence’s affronted reaction, despite the fact she couldn’t put Paisley on a map if you paid her. Just then, Bimini emerges from the hall, having been to their room to grab some cigarettes so they can smoke out the window. </p><p> </p><p>“We talking about the last flatmate? There’s someone moving around in the room next to mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce’s eyes widen a little as she looks at the others. “Have they just arrived?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, door was shut so they’ve probably been there a while, we just ain’t noticed. Too busy getting bevved.”</p><p> </p><p>“How come they’ve not come through?” Lawrence asks, her eyes narrowing. Ellie gives her a dig in the ribs with her elbow, her drink sloshing out of her glass a little. </p><p> </p><p>“Because you screeching every word you speak doesn’t exactly scream ‘calm, welcoming environment’?” </p><p> </p><p>“Did you knock on the door?” Tayce asks Bimini, who pulls a face. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, it was kinda awkward. Think they might’ve been crying. I could hear a lot of sniffing. Still, maybe they just got a runny nose. Or they were doing a key.”</p><p> </p><p>The girls all splutter at Bimini’s turn of phrase, but something heavy and uncomfortable lodges itself in Tayce’s heart at the thought of one of her new flatmates in their room on their own, alone and upset. That could very well have been Tayce if she hadn’t had Lawrence’s infectiously funny energy to pull her out of her potential slump. She decides to slide off the sofa, decisive if a little nervous. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go see if I can talk to them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should we come with you?” Ellie asks earnestly, earning her a snort from Tia. </p><p> </p><p>“Babe, the last thing she wants if she’s upset is all of us barging into her room half-drunk and hyper!”</p><p> </p><p>As the others laugh, Tayce watches an ashamed little blush colour Ellie’s face. She shrugs and addresses her new flatmates as she heads towards the doorframe. “I’ll be five minutes tops. Then we can all get ready to go out.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce leaves and her plan makes the others give a little cheer of anticipation. She’s admittedly a little nervous, though. She doesn’t want to disturb her new flatmate if they just want to be left on their own, nor does she want to annoy them or give the impression of being too nosy. The only thing that keeps her approaching the room beside hers, however, is the knowledge that if it had been her in their position, she’d have wanted the same.</p><p> </p><p>The door to the girl’s room is slightly ajar, but Tayce still knocks before she pushes it open a little. She doesn’t hear a “go away” or a “piss off”, so she takes that as a cue to go inside. As the room is gradually revealed to her, Tayce realises that Bimini was right when they said she must have been there for a while- the room is more or less fully decorated. There’s a string of pink fairy lights which gives the room a soft, warm glow, and photos are stuck to most available surfaces. A rose gold Macbook sits on the desk beside a little money plant in a dark green pot, and there’s stationary all perfectly laid out too. Everything is tidy and neatly in its place, and on top of the bed with its palm leaf printed duvet cover and pillows a girl is sitting curled up into a ball, hugging a well-worn cuddly toy cat to her chest which is immediately discarded under her pillow when she realises Tayce’s eyes are on her. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Tayce begins softly, acutely aware she’s intruded on an emotional moment. “Do you mind if I come in?”</p><p> </p><p>The girl swipes two perfectly applied acrylics under her lashes, snuffles and gives a forced smile. “No, of course! No. It’s fine, come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce smiles tightly as she crosses the room, perches on the edge of the girl’s bed awkwardly. “I’m Tayce, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>The girl takes a little breath and composes herself. Her makeup is still perfect save from the small black smudges at her lower lash line and the way a little bit of her foundation has rubbed off on her nose. Her smile grows a little more genuine as she introduces herself to Tayce in her Northern accent. “I’m Aurora. Sorry, this is so embarrassing!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, babe, don’t worry,” Tayce reassures her, shaking her head. “Honestly I was almost like that leaving my parents as well. Only reason I wasn’t was because I had the others to take my mind off things.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still, not exactly a cracking first impression I’m making. Hiding in my room like a freak,” Aurora rolls her eyes at herself, stretching her legs a bit so they’re not hugged at her chest. She gives a little sigh. “Just...it was hard leaving my sister. We’re really close and I’ve not been away from her like this before. Longest was probably a week on year six camp and I cried like a baby every night then as well. Good to know not much has changed.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce smiles gently at her joke. “It’s alright, I don’t think I’ve matured much since I was in year six either.”</p><p> </p><p>Aurora lets out a genuine giggle and tucks her long, blonde hair behind her ears. Knowing she’s helped her feel a little better reassures Tayce that coming to see her was the right thing to do. </p><p> </p><p>“Probably a good thing that you decorated your room first anyway. I still haven’t made my bed, that’s a job for drunk me coming in tonight,” Tayce continues, heartened as Aurora laughs again. “You’re gonna hear me stumbling around with a sheet over my head like a Scooby-Doo ghost.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d offer to help but my goal for the night is to get so drunk that I forget about missing my family entirely, or that I even have a family. Or that I’m even a sentient human being.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s the goal right there. First night of freshers, gotta go big or go home,” Tayce winks, and the pair of them share a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“So wait, are you next door to me then?” Aurora asks, tilting her head with intrigue. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m on that side, Bimini’s on your other side,” Tayce points at each wall in turn, and Aurora nods. Tayce bounces a little on the bed as she slaps her lap decisively. “Speaking of, d’you want to come meet everyone?”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce can see the uncertainty and hesitation on Aurora’s face. She clearly notices Tayce watching her, because she meets her eyes and gives a bashful sort of smile. “God, honestly, I promise I’m not normally this shy. I’m just scared that everyone thinks I’m a total weird bitch for hiding in my room.”</p><p> </p><p>“They don’t at all!” Tayce protests, smiling kindly at Aurora as she insists. “They’re all lovely, honestly. Bimini is so fun already, Tia is really nice and so’s Ellie, and it’s impossible to be sad when Lawrence is around, she’s hilarious. C’mon, I’ll go with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“God, I’ve probably ruined all my makeup,” Aurora moans, sliding off her bed and crossing the room to look at her reflection in the mirror. She turns around to face Tayce as she speaks again. “Do I look like total shit? You have to be honest with me, we’re flatmates.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce laughs at Aurora’s joke, and she looks properly at her flatmate. She’s got these big brown eyes and long lashes and Tayce is already a little jealous of both of them. Her lips are full and her nose is small and her skin is clear and glowing. </p><p> </p><p>She’s really pretty. </p><p> </p><p>“You look lush,” Tayce smiles supportively, putting a hand on the doorhandle and making to open it. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll even be your government assigned emotional support flatmate tonight, if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tonight? I think I’ll need one every night,” Aurora laughs bashfully, tucking her hair behind her ears again. “This was really kind of you, y’know. Thanks, Tayce.”</p><p> </p><p>Tayce opens the door and holds it open for her, glad she’s drawn her new flatmate out of her shell and excited for the first night of freshers to properly begin.</p><p> </p><p>“No worries. Let’s go get drunk.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. january- we're friends so it's cool, why would it not be?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tayce and A’whora still have unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December. But it’s only awkward if they make it awkward...right?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>again, fucking bowled over by the love and support this has had so far. i cannot thank any of u enough, ur all absolute wee diamonds in the sky. hope u enjoy this one- we're in January for this one, where the girls have to deal with the consequences of December...and Tayce is tasked with keeping a secret for Lawrence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Tayce is pretty sure she’s going to combust if something doesn’t happen soon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been a month and a week since A’whora kissed her, and twenty-four hours shorter than that since Tayce kissed her in return. Or thereabouts, it’s not like she’s counting. It’s not like it’s been consuming her every thought every waking moment of the day or anything. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In all fairness, Tayce seems like it’s an achievement to think about a kiss for that length of time. Especially through her first semester essay deadlines, Ellie’s raucous eighteenth, her first Christmas back home, her first New Year seeing all her old school friends after uni and updating Cheryl and Cara on everything. She’d drunkenly come out to Cheryl too after being gently encouraged and supported by Cara, and they’d both cried as Cheryl held her and confessed that since uni had started she’d also begun seeing a girl she really liked too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's funny how at uni everybody seems so much more free. Away from a stifling hometown, Tayce and her friends can properly spread their wings and be who they’ve always been but have either not realised it or been afraid to show it. Tayce is the happiest she’s ever been when she’s at the flat with the others in her little bubble of a home away from home, with Bimini’s intelligent insights and Tia’s funny quips, Lawrence’s chaos and Ellie’s kindness and A’whora being...well, her best friend. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except she’s not really sure that best friends kiss each other like that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But maybe they do, because since they’ve all come back from home after Christmas A’whora hasn’t mentioned the kisses, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened between them. Hasn’t even joked about it with her or in front of the others (which is fair enough, as if Lawrence knew she’d probably tease them about it until they graduated). Tayce is pretty sure that none of the others even know, or at least if they do they’ve not spoken about it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And the worst part is that A’whora has been absolutely...normal. Fine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>See, Tayce could’ve dealt with any awkwardness- she’d be upfront, bluntly ask A’whora if she wants to forget about it or what she wants the plan for them to be. Even better would’ve been if A’whora had rugby-tackled her the moment she’d got back from Wales and smothered her with kisses, told her how much she’d been thinking about her while they’d both been away. Tayce supposes it’s kind of her fault they never properly talked about it since she’d practically bolted out of A’whora’s room when she’d kissed her that morning, but she’d been nervous in case she’d made everything too weird. A’whora hadn’t seemed to be complaining at the time, though. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In fact that night, A’whora had been up for plenty more than just a drunk kiss. If Tayce thinks about everything she’d said when they were walking home her face still gets hot and she has to squeeze her thighs together. She’s definitely glad they never crossed any of those particular lines when they’d both been drinking, but sometimes when she’s lying in bed at night Tayce lets her hands drift between her legs as she thinks about A’whora telling her how much and for how long she’d wanted her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Best friends definitely don’t do <em>that</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Tayce feels guilty spending time with just A’whora these days, the fact that things haven’t been awkward between them somehow being worse than if they were. She’s not been avoiding her per sé, she’s just been finding ways to make sure it’s very rarely the two of them alone together: hanging out in the kitchen with everyone instead of in her room, going to bed when the others do instead of staying up with A’whora, inviting the others to anything A’whora suggests the two of them do together. It’s silly, and Tayce does miss spending time alone with her, but A’whora acting like nothing’s happened while conversely Tayce wants everything to happen hurts her embarrassingly more than she’d care to admit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Such a time is a lazy Sunday afternoon halfway through the shittiest month of the year, when the weather outside is full of misty rain that’s a recipe for frizzy hair, puddles, and misery. Just to add to the rubbish day Tayce is holed up in her room, watching the grey clouds drift and overlap over each other to create a paint colour chart in the sky as she begins an essay that’s due in a mere five days. It’s been hard to focus on anything when her head is full of her best friend and imaginary scenarios but the prospect of an all-nighter isn’t one that’s particularly desirable either, so she and the ninety-five words she’s written so far are engaged in a stand-off as Tayce waits for the essay to write itself and the word document waits for her brain cells to conjure up any more opinions on “<em>Is art a conveyor of emotion?” </em>(4000 words).  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then there’s a knock on the door that doesn’t wait for permission to enter and A’whora bounces in. She’s in a pair of grey joggers and a baggy navy pyjama top that she’s tucked in at the waist and rolled up the sleeves of, and her hair is up in a bun that’s had approximately 5% effort put into it apart from the little diamante hair clasp she’s slid through it at the top. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In spite of herself, Tayce can’t help but snort when she sees her. “Only you could make your shitty potato loungewear fashion.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up! This is haute couture. This is actually my final project for the semester,” A’whora jokes in return, moves to sit at the foot of her bed and pout at her. “Tayyyce. I’m boreddd.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce raises an eyebrow at A’whora’s whining from over her laptop screen. “And I’m doing this essay. Find someone else to bug.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be such a hound,” A’whora frowns, falling sideways and landing onto the bed so she’s hugging Tayce’s legs through the duvet, her head resting on her shins. “I’d annoy Ellie but she’s in town with one of her friends from home. C’mon, let’s do a movie day. We’ve not had one in ages. I feel like we’ve barely had any time together since you got back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just been trying to catch up on all my coursework. It’s not personal,” she lies, her heart sinking only the tiniest bit at the realisation that her attempts at staying out of A’whora’s way have obviously been louder than they’ve been subtle. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please?” A’whora bats her lashes, and if it was impossible to say no to her before it’s surely illegal to do so now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce sighs and closes her laptop, eliciting a smile from the other girl. “Fine. Fine! But you better ask the others, I don’t want them feeling left out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a good spur-of-the-moment excuse to make sure Tayce doesn’t have to spend two hours cuddled up next to A’whora while her heart hurts, but she’s confused by the way a small look of something passes over A’whora’s expression. She can’t put her finger on what it is, but A’whora’s agreeing and bounding down to the living room before Tayce can figure it out. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce throws on her dressing gown over her clothes before leaving her room to join her, the blue fluffy one with the narwhal hood that’s complete with a horn on the top. She doesn’t own many embarrassing items of clothing, but this is definitely one of them. It doesn’t matter too much, though. A’whora’s seen her in it before, when she’s been hungover or sad or hangry and on her period. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s so funny how she can only have known her five months and still feel closer to her than half of the friends she spent six years with at high school.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the kitchen, A’whora’s already cheerfully getting organised as Bimini and Lawrence lounge on the sofa lazily. Tia’s not in either- it emerges she’s gone round to Veronica’s, which nobody’s surprised about. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Main question is, what’re we watching?” Bimini asks. “It’s a lazy Sunday so it can’t be anything that’s too good. I want something I can rip the piss out of while I watch it, y’know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s some squabbling about film choices as A’whora makes popcorn in the microwave, burns it, then subsequently has to make another packet. It’s eventually decided that they’re going to watch Love Actually despite the fact it’s January, because they all either hate it or like it because of how bad it is and the film will simply be a vehicle for them to yell jokes over. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have we got anything to drink? We could make this into like...a day drinking situation,” Lawrence suggests casually. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not helping the stereotype that all Scottish people are alcoholics at <em>all</em>,” A’whora quips, causing Tayce to let out a too-loud laugh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Listen, if you’ve not figured out that I’m a walking talking stereotype by now, A’whora, are we even friends?” Lawrence shoots back, and A’whora shrugs in an unspoken <em>fair enough</em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce tilts her head then remembers something. “I actually still have loads of canned cocktails in my suitcase that my Mum got me for Christmas. Haven’t unpacked them yet. Think there’s about...twelve?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ooh, three each? That’s alright!” Bimini smiles, clearly buoyed by the prospect of being slightly tipsy in the middle of the afternoon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, that’s settled then. I’ll go get them,” Tayce decides. A’whora’s crossing the kitchen before she knows it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll help you with them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Tayce can speak, Bimini gives a snort. “ ‘Ow much do you think canned cocktails weigh, exactly?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Lawrence bursts into peals of laughter, Tayce watches as A’whora rolls her eyes at them, then turns on her heel to follow her to her room. Tayce can’t help but be a little wary, though. It does kind of seem like A’whora’s trying to get her on her own, which Tayce wouldn’t mind if she knew where she was coming from. But she doesn’t. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce kneels down onto the floor as she rolls her suitcase out from under the bed, chatting mindlessly as she does so because if she’s talking it means A’whora doesn’t have a chance to bring up whatever she clearly wants to bring up. “I think there’s actually eleven here, you know. Because, uh...I think I drank one of them while I was at home, so we’re gonna need to fight over who gets one less. I don’t fancy my chances in a fight against Lawrence, she’d probably give me...what’s that expression? A Glasgow kiss? She’d give me one of those. Although Bimini, what do you think they’d be like in a fight? You know I think they’ve secretly got a set of knuckledusters, they seem the type. Although when I think about it-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayce,” A’whora cuts in, forcing her to snap her head up. Her expression is troubled, and a little frown dips on her forehead as she looks at her. “What’s wrong? Why are you being so...I don’t know, weird? Like you want to get rid of me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce feels ashamed for being called out on her behaviour, and she can feel her stomach drop as she looks back at the cans in her otherwise empty suitcase. She wants to tell her there’s a reason for the way she’s been acting but A’whora beats her to the punch, murmuring with her head down and not meeting Tayce’s eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is this because we kissed?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A’whora...” Tayce immediately groans in exasperation, the heat rushing to her cheeks as if she’s been slapped. She’s embarrassed, because she knows she’s got the capacity to talk about this like a grown-up but there’s a part of her that’s cringing, because if A’whora’s about to tell her she regrets it then she’s not sure she’ll ever live it down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a small silence where neither of them seem to move, let alone speak. A’whora is yet again the one to break it. “I just feel like you hate me all of a sudden.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Fuck. </em>If there was one thing Tayce had wanted to avoid, it’s this. Even though she herself is hurting she can’t bear the thought of having hurt A’whora’s feelings too, so she frowns, reaches up and squeezes A’whora’s hand which prompts her to look at Tayce. “I don’t hate you, Rory, of course I don’t hate you. I just…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce looks up to the ceiling as she searches for the right words, even though she’s not really sure what they are. She wants to tell A’whora she’s yearning for something to happen again between them and that even the fact she’s holding her hand is setting her pulse off all too quickly, but now’s not the right time. Besides, she doesn’t even know if A’whora feels the same way. Either way, Tayce can hear A’whora holding her breath, can feel the way her body’s tense beside her, so Tayce finally formulates something that doesn’t sound too hot or too cold. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...I just don’t know where we go from here, that’s all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora visibly relaxes, then shrugs. Her voice is quiet as she speaks. “Well, it’s only awkward if we make it awkward. And I feel like I’ve been okay at not making it awkward?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce narrows her eyes at her, laughs. “So what you’re saying is it’s all my fault.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair of the giggle softly and things already seem to have shifted back into comfortable territory. The green of a spring bulb popping up through the snow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce swallows her not-inconsiderable pride and smiles up at A’whora. She supposes going back to being friends and not ever talking about the fact that they kissed again is better than existing in a tense purgatory for the rest of their time in the flat together, even if it does make her feel a little sinking feeling of disappointment and a sense of mourning what could’ve been. “I’m sorry for being such a...mingebag.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora cracks up, repeats “<em>mingebag!”</em> incredulously, before her laughter dies down and she gives Tayce’s hand a squeeze in return. “That’s okay. Just good to know you still like me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They share a soft smile before piling the cocktails high in their arms, cradling them as if they’re babies as they rush back through to the living room where Bimini and Lawrence are hanging up a huge white sheet on the wall opposite the sofa for the projector. The projector had been Tia’s addition to the flat, an AliExpress purchase that had turned out to not be broken, or unusable, or made for a doll’s house.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tia won’t mind us borrowing that, will she?” A’whora asks with concern. Lawrence scoffs, bats a hand in her direction dismissively. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She’ll be too mouth-deep in Veronica to care when she realises we’ve used it, let’s not lie!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a cry of disgust at Lawrence’s turn of phrase from the others, and as Tayce sets up the cocktails on the little coffee table A’whora brings the bowl of popcorn through. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fun to be able to make jokes about Tia and her girl, in’t it?” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly. “Always feel like we can’t properly tease her when Ellie’s there ‘cause she always looks like she’s about to jump out the window any time we mention Veronica’s name.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The revelation that Ellie has feelings for Tia had come via a drunken, tearful confession to the others the night of her eighteenth birthday, when Tia had left the party with Veronica instead of staying overnight at the flat. Poor Ellie had been so devastatingly upset that the others had seemed to forge an unspoken agreement that the situation wasn’t going to be fodder for flat jokes. Instead they make sure to ask Tia how her budding relationship is going when Ellie isn’t around. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she and A’whora laugh in agreement at Bimini’s joke, Tayce doesn’t miss the way Lawrence grows uncharacteristically quiet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When d’you think Ellie <em>will</em> get over Tia? I mean it’s a shame she doesn’t like her back, but she’ll ‘ave to at some point.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She won’t. She’ll just pine after her every day until we graduate,” Lawrence says. It’s meant to be a joke but her delivery is somewhat flat, and Tayce wonders if she’s the only one that picks up on it. From the way A’whora and Bimini are laughing, it appears she has been.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini and Lawrence step back from the sheet, satisfied with the job they’ve done. A’whora’s busy plugging in the fairy lights Ellie strung up where the wall meets the ceiling a few months ago, and Tayce can’t help but think to herself that sacking off her essay was a good idea as she glances at their setup. Never let it be said that their flat does things by halves. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh! We should bring duvets through. And blankets,” A’whora suggests, and Tayce’s heart is both warmed and hurt by how adorably enthusiastic she is about the whole endeavour. She wishes she could shake the lingering feeling of disappointment she’s got in her gut at the knowledge that they’ll probably never talk about their kiss again; they’ve moved on from it, it was a one-time thing, and it’s only awkward if they make it awkward so Tayce bringing it up would be awkward, right? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So she settles on the sofa with Lawrence while Bimini helps A’whora gather up all their pillows, cushions, blankets and duvets from their respective rooms. Tayce is about to become lost in her own head when Lawrence turns to her with a look in her eyes that Tayce has never seen before. It’s almost conspiratorial and definitely suspicious, and for one horrific moment Tayce is convinced that Lawrence knows everything that happened in December. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it?” Tayce asks her, before her flatmate can even open her mouth. Lawrence sighs, tips her head back to the head of the sofa and squeezes her eyes shut. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need to tell you a secret.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce’s heart drops as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her mind immediately jumps to A’whora. What’s she told her? What does Lawrence know? It would make sense to wait until A’whora was out of the room before telling her anything. Tayce tries to keep her face impassive as she turns to Lawrence, nods quietly. “Okay, spill.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can’t tell <em>anyone</em>, Tayce,” Lawrence insists, looking at her pleadingly. Tayce promises she won’t, although in retrospect she probably should’ve asked what it was first. The way Lawrence is acting is intriguing, though. It makes Tayce think it’s something about herself if it’s something she doesn’t want the others to know so badly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christ, this is so cringe,” Lawrence groans, dropping her head forward and resting it in her hands. Tayce can still see the pink flush that’s started to dust her face, and by now she’s convinced that this has nothing to do with A’whora and everything to do with Lawrence herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence mutters out something incoherent into her hands. Tayce frowns, humoured. “What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A huge huff comes from the girl on the sofa beside her, and as she removes her hands from the front of her face she sticks them to the side of it like blinkers on a horse. It’s the quietest Tayce has ever heard Lawrence speak as she says the secret again. “I’ve got a crush on Ellie.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce’s face lights up at her friend’s confession. “Do you actually?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christ, don’t make me say it twice. I’ll get struck down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce leans into Lawrence, uses both her hands to lightly poke her in the arm. “Look at you! Being cute and having feelings!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not, though! It’s not cute at all! It’s just sad!” Lawrence rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. “Because she doesn’t...she’ll never see me like that, and she’s too busy making cow-eyes at Tia all the time anyway, so. It’s pointless, I don’t even know why I’m even hoping for something to happen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, listen! How long do you think Ellie’s gonna be able to keep moaning about Tia when she’s still seeing Veronica? I mean there’s only one way that relationship is going, the only ‘end’ there is in ‘girlfriend’. So Ellie’s gonna have to get over it eventually!” Tayce says supportively, shaking Lawrence’s arm to gee her up. Lawrence bats her away, though, giving another sigh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayce, it’s not exactly like she’s gonnae suddenly realise that I’ve <em>been here all along!</em> Like some fuckin’ chick flick. I’ve fancied her for years,” Lawrence explains. The information knocks Tayce for six, but when she thinks about it it makes sense- the way Lawrence gently bullies her so much, the way she gravitates towards her all the time, the way she gets quiet if Ellie starts moping about Tia. Tayce had never thought about it in that light before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence hugs her knees to her chest as she continues. “Realised I liked her the last time we were at the caravan. And obviously we were at opposite sides of the country but like...I’d still meet up with her in Summer, get the train to Dundee and have sleepovers and all that shite. And when she came into the kitchen on that first day I was so happy she was gonnae be living with us, and I <em>am</em> still happy, because obviously she’s my friend? But like...it’s just shite to know that she’ll never like me back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t know that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ellie’s type is obviously tall, dark and skinny. Which…” Lawrence gestures at herself with a deprecative laugh. “...how can I be any of that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, for a start! Stop thinking about what you’re not and start thinking about what you are,” Tayce says firmly, gripping her hand tightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence rolls her eyes and fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, like what? I’m <em>beautiful on the inside!</em> I know I’m the fat funny friend, Tayce, you can spare me the bullshit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well...you’re fat, and so fucking what of it? Doesn’t mean you aren’t drop-dead-fuckin’ gorgeous. Being fat and being beautiful aren’t mutually exclusive.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Very easy for you to say, sat there wearing size eights. Tell that to literally any piece of media we consume. Or any of my brain cells. Even if there are only about ten of them,” Lawrence sighs, then pauses. “I <em>do</em> like the way I look, and I don’t want to change anything about myself. It’s just...several things make that very hard almost all of the time, and it’s tiring to feel like you’re constantly fighting a losing battle. And it’s not like I’m pinning all my self-worth on a girl liking me back, but just...it would be nice to be the one that someone has a crush on for a change, if that makes sense?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Tayce can say anything to affirm how Lawrence is feeling, a movement from down the hall makes her flinch and point at Tayce accusingly. “Not a fucking word, right? Least of all to A’whora, if she knows then I might as well just tell Ellie myself and like fuck is that happening.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce nods rapidly in a promise as A’whora and Bimini emerge from the hall comedically draped in materials, like a child’s attempt at a dress made out of knitting and featherdown quilts. They all set about arranging everything to make their setup as comfy as possible, and as the film gets loaded up they get comfortable in their respective positions. Lawrence is at one end of the sofa, with Tayce in the middle and A’whora at her side, while Bimini sits on the floor with their back to the sofa because they’re quite happy sitting there with enough cushions and pillows. The big lights are turned off, the film begins, and the room is filled with the soft glow of the fairy lights and the hazy light from the movie and all Tayce can think about is A’whora, warm and soft and squashed up beside her sharing the blanket.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce feels silly for being so disappointed. This was what she’d wanted- they’d talked about it. They’d addressed the fact that the kiss had happened, and now they were just...moving forward. Not making things awkward. Because obviously to A’whora, the fact it’s happened <em>has</em> made things awkward. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that shouldn’t hurt Tayce as much as it does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s hard to dwell on things for long, though, when she has block four flat ten’s very own Ant and Dec in her living room. Lawrence and Bimini keep her and A’whora giggling pretty much from the film’s first scene, and they all fall about screech-laughing when Bimini forces them to pause it on a shot of Liam Neeson’s hall in which there’s a horrific blob of a child’s painting on the wall that looks so cursed they just had to point it out. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s probably because Lawrence and Bimini are distracting her that Tayce doesn’t initially notice A’whora leaning into her at first until she’s pressed up against Tayce’s side. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. They’ve always sat close before, but this time things feel different. This time it feels as if there’s little sparks of electricity between them, metaphorical manifestations of the anticipation Tayce feels of something she’s yearning to happen.    </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So when A’whora bumps her knuckles against Tayce’s, brings her hand over hers and laces their fingers together, Tayce feels as if she’s suddenly evolved into some ridiculous cartoon character; she can practically feel her eyes bulge out of their sockets in shock and she has to stop her jaw from dropping onto the floor. If her heart could comedically fly out of its chest it would. Tayce keeps her gaze steady and focused on the film, blocking out her peripheral vision and not even turning to see if A’whora’s looking at her too. Because if she is it would make everything ten times worse (better?) than it currently is, and Tayce’s head is already in a spin. They’ve held hands before. It’s not like this is different. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it is. <em>Before</em> they hadn’t kissed. <em>Before</em> A’whora hadn’t told Tayce she wanted to sleep with her. <em>Before</em> all of Tayce’s feelings for her friend were cooped up into neat little boxes in her mind that were so full they were close to bursting, but now they have and now it’s <em>After</em> and so holding A’whora’s hand has gone from usual to extraordinary, routine to electric.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce hopes A’whora can’t feel the way her pulse is racing because that’ll definitely let her know something is up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s suddenly startled out of her overthinking by a tut of disapproval from Lawrence. “How many fuckin’ couples are in this film and there’s not one single lesbian?”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lesbians didn’t exist in 2003, remember?” Bimini deadpans, causing A’whora to giggle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, lesbians were invented in 2013 when Orange is the New Black aired.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah! When did Sugar Rush come out? Mind that programme on Channel 4? I remember watching that through a crack in the living room door when my parents thought I’d gone to bed,” Lawrence recounds excitedly, her enthusiasm at remembering her lesbian awakening making Tayce laugh and relate at the same time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“For me it was Sophie and Sian. Remember on Coronation Street? They were my first lesbians.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least you all got representation at some stage. If I wanted to see another pan I’d have to watch fuckin’...Kitchen Nightmares,” Bimini rolls their eyes, their joke making the girls howl with laughter and let out cries of consolation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then A’whora squeezes Tayce’s hand under the blanket. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce thinks only for a second before squeezing it back, and subsequently <em>doesn’t</em> think before turning and looking at her friend beside her. A’whora shoots her a little smile that if Tayce didn’t know better she’d say was innocent, but the twinkle in her eye and the way she shuffles herself to lean closer against her and tuck her other hand into the crook of Tayce’s elbow makes her heart give a judder like she’s been crashed into from behind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She supposes it’s only awkward if she makes things awkward, just like A’whora said. So when Tayce gently strokes A’whora’s hand with her thumb, it’s only to illustrate to A’whora that things aren’t weird between them. It’s not to see how the other girl is going to react to that at all. It’s not because being affectionate with A’whora just feels correct and perfect, the easiest thing in the world. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce is holding her breath waiting for A’whora to do something else. Something to raise her hopes, something to show her that maybe she does want something to happen between them again. She wants the film to go on forever and give them infinite time in this no-man’s-land of comfortable tension, because when it ends she knows A’whora will probably just get up from under the blanket and slip away as if everything is back to normal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When A’whora lets go of her hand, Tayce feels her hopes drop into the pit of her stomach, a rollercoaster coming to a dead stop. The ride is over. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But a second later she wraps her arm around Tayce’s waist, squeezes her close in a hug, and the ride begins all over again. Tayce’s heart rate spikes as she shifts a little, getting comfortable before bringing her arm around A’whora’s middle too and holding her right back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s then that Lawrence’s voice makes Tayce snap her head away from the film, her glazed-over eyes having to focus on her friend who’s regarding her with a raised eyebrow. “Fuck’s going on under that blanket? You two fingering each other?”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini snaps their head up and yells as Tayce tries to conceal the wave of panic that hits her, rolls her eyes and shakes her head and tells Lawrence that she needs to get her mind out the gutter. She’s sure that being called out will make A’whora flinch away, a woodland animal startled by a twig breaking, but she just giggles and buries her face into Tayce’s side all bashful. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>God, Tayce wants to kiss her so much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The film reaches the scene where Emma Thompson cries in her bedroom to Joni Mitchell, and the sniffing from the floor indicates she’s not the only one. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bimini! You said you hated this film!” Tayce laughs, nudging her friend with her foot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but anyone who doesn’t cry at this scene is a hard-hearted bastard,” they reply, voice thick with emotion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aww, BonBon. It’s okay, I’ve got a little tear as well,” A’whora murmurs from Tayce’s side. She huffs a sigh. “I can’t even believe anyone would fall for that pencil-skirt-wearing cow. I mean, she fucking manspreads and that’s supposed to be some sort of sexy come-on?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, and like you could do any better?! We’ve all seen you trying to flirt, it’s embarrassing!” Lawrence cries in outrage. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce is reminded of nights out earlier in the year when A’whora would talk to girls at bars and Tayce would always feel this inexplicable burn in her chest in response. She remembers the unfounded relief when A’whora would come back home to the flat with the rest of them, one-night-stand missions failed, and the churn in her stomach the times when she’d leave with a girl she didn’t know and sneak back into the flat at nine in the morning, ready to tell the others about her exploits from the night before which Tayce never wanted to hear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s really fancied A’whora for a long time, now she thinks about it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could so do better!” A’whora complains, and Tayce isn’t looking at her but she just <em>knows</em> she’s pouting. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence chuckles, tilting her head in amusement. “Go on then! What would your plan of action be, Miss fuckin’ Womaniser?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a pause before A’whora says, “Well I’d probably wait until we were both drunk on a night out, do tequila shots with them, drape myself over them, kiss them, then get them to take me back home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce thinks she deserves an Oscar for the way she refuses to outwardly react to the way A’whora has essentially just described their kiss from that night out. Inside, however, it’s a different story. She’s not sure it’s possible for her heart to go any faster, and every cell of her body seems to buzz. She can barely hear Lawrence and Bimini laughing in response to A’whora’s comment for the way her blood’s roaring in her ears. Once the others stop paying attention and go back to watching the film, it’s only then that Tayce turns her head, raises one unimpressed eyebrow at A’whora who’s looking up at her with a scheming smirk on her face and a glint in her eye. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And right as she’s looking at her, A’whora closes her eyes and plants a kiss against Tayce’s arm then goes back to watching the movie as if nothing ever happened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s at that point that Tayce feels her mouth dry up, feels something coil tight inside her and a throb between her legs. Something is going to happen the moment the pair of them are alone, she can feel it. There’s no way it can’t. In stark contrast to earlier, Tayce now wills the film to end sooner rather than later.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it does. Finally. The credits roll, the Beach Boys are playing, and Lawrence slaps her thighs. “Well, that was a heap of shite!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve still not forgiven Alan Rickman. God love the dead old bastard,” Bimini shrugs, heaves themself up off the floor and slides their phone out of their back pocket, scrolling busily. “Oh, Ellie’s asking if we wanna come join her an’ Anne for drinks. Apparently they’re in some boujie cocktail bar in town spending all their student loan and need responsible adults to stop them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why the hell are they asking us then?” Tayce quips, the giggle it elicits from A’whora sending a shockwave down her spine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m down to go meet them both. I’m already tipsy, might as well go the whole hog and get rat-arsed,” Lawrence says decisively, leaping up from the sofa and fixing Tayce and A’whora with an inquisitive glance. “You two coming?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce lets go of A’whora’s waist and stretches to make a point. “Nah, babe, I can’t. Got this essay due on Wednesday I’ve not started.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini snorts. “Yeah, I forgot. You’re dead on it and organised, in’t ya?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce pulls a face at them while Lawrence asks A’whora. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmph. Think I need a nap before I even think about drinking any more, hun.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence eyes them both suspiciously and appears to be about to say something else before Bimini tugs on her arm and distracts her. “C’mon then, let’s leave these two to be boring. Have fun, losers!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Goodbyes are exchanged between them and Lawrence and Bimini finally leave, the fire door to the kitchen swinging shut and leaving the warm glow of the fairy lights, the blanket, the sofa, and A’whora gazing at her with that shit-eating smirk on her face again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Tayce wastes no time in bringing a hand up to her jaw, leaning down and kissing her, and judging by the way that A’whora melts into her and lets out a little happy sigh of satisfaction she’s been waiting for it just as much as Tayce has. They fall together like it’s easy, as if both of the times they’ve done this before have been all the practise they need. A’whora brings her hand to rest against Tayce’s cheek as if she’s trying to somehow pull her closer than she already is, and her neediness makes Tayce giggle against her lips. In turn it sets A’whora off, and when she pulls away their faces are still close and there’s little smiles on each of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s so funny, you little bitch?” A’whora smirks, her barbed words cushioned by the way she’s wriggling onto Tayce’s lap and bringing her arms up to circle around her neck just like she did the first time in the club. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just you’re kind of giving me mixed signals here, baby. Saying you don’t want things to be awkward and then moving to me the entire film,” Tayce mutters, keeping a playful smile on her face despite the fact her words hold entirely too much truth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It clearly takes the wind out of A’whora’s sails because she casts her gaze down, pauses before speaking and looking at Tayce from under her lashes. “I didn’t mean <em>that</em>, I just meant...I want us to be able to do stuff and not have it be awkward afterwards.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is a game changer. So A’whora doesn’t regret anything. She doesn’t want them to go back to the way things were- well no, she does, just with an extra little bit of something more added in. She wants the friendship they have but she also clearly wants Tayce like she wants her back, and the realisation makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together, anticipation now so high she feels scared for her blood pressure. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce tries not to let her realisation show on her face. Instead she looks at A’whora with interest, raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “What’s ‘stuff’, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, just like...if we’re both horny and in the same flat then it saves us having to swipe Tinder for hours on end only to find a girl with a boyfriend who’s looking to ‘experiment’ and never found another girl’s clit in her life, doesn’t it?” A’whora shrugs blithely despite the blush that’s hit her cheeks, her turn of phrase making Tayce bite back a smile. “Whereas I’ve been told I’m quite good at that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The twinkle is back in A’whora’s eye again and the combination of that, her smirk and her words make Tayce’s stomach do a somersault. She can’t let it show, though, can’t let A’whora see her crack so she blinks to maintain her composure, tilts her head with mock-curiosity. “Have you now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. Could show you if you wanted,” A’whora grins brazenly back at her, shifting a little in Tayce’s lap and sending her into orbit. “Plus I can’t remember if I put on matching underwear this morning, so...you should come help me check.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce breaks the stalemate to throw her head back in a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Lawrence was right. You actually can’t flirt to save yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She watches A’whora’s face drop into a pout and instantly feels as if she’s kicked a puppy, so Tayce brings one of her hands up to rest on top of her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “Says a lot for how fit you are that it’s still working though, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pout cracks into a scheming smile, and Tayce matches it before A’whora leans in and kisses it off her face. It’s more heated this time, that little undercurrent of intensity as Tayce runs her tongue over A’whora’s and hears her whimper against her lips. As A’whora pushes her fingers into Tayce’s hair Tayce lets her hands drift around to the small of her back, and the way A’whora keeps shifting needily in her lap only makes Tayce want her more, which she didn’t think was even possible. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve got a free flat, you know,” A’whora mutters in between little kisses, her voice low as she whispers against her lips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Probably a good thing. You couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it,” Tayce teases, running her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s sweatpants in an attempt to try and convey how much she needs her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, you have no idea, babe,” A’whora smirks before pulling away, ripping her top out from where it’s tucked into her waistband and tugging it off, barely even giving Tayce a chance to react. She’s left in a little black bralet with Playboy logos along a white band at the hem, and Tayce feels her mouth go dry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s really, really hoping A’whora put on matching underwear this morning. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she’s still taken aback because after all- they’re in the middle of their living room, and any of the others could walk in at any given moment- so she can’t help the way her mouth drops open and the way she lets out a little shocked giggle. “A’whora!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?!” A’whora smiles smugly back at her, clearly glad she’s got the reaction she wanted. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re not shagging on this couch, are you insane?! It’s rotten! Kim Woodburn would have a fit if she saw it!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, so we are <em>going</em> to shag?” A’whora regards her with one cocked eyebrow, and Tayce can’t help but mirror it. There’s a pause before she gives a small huff of mock-resignation, sealing their fate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God. We’re really doing the whole friends with benefits cliché, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora smirks affectionately at her. “Only awkward if we make it awkward.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She holds out her pinkie between them and Tayce takes it with a resigned laugh, the childish nature of their promise contrasting deeply with the whole situation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mon then, bestie, lead the way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And as A’whora scrambles excitedly off her lap and Tayce takes the opportunity to smack her ass playfully, she feels her heart soar and her head grow light at the thought of being able to do everything she’s been thinking about doing for over a month with one of her best friends in the world. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wonders why everyone seems to say that a friends with benefits situation isn’t a good idea. This is already the best decision she’s made in years. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. october- you're the one that makes me feel right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>fam this response is crazy it really is...thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i'm so sorry if i've not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i've read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat's shared brain cell at any point (until the very final lines, that is.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch...get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What else’ve you got?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it so far.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess that leaves you...downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lawrie, are you <em>knitting?</em>” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah? And?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How were your lectures, huns?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be <em>doing</em> stuff, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “<em>love you!”</em> afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. "What's actually <em>wrong</em> with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well what alcohol do you like?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a <em>very</em> cute girl in my MT society...and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, <em>love</em> that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s <em>so</em> lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s <em>not</em> going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you <em>unwell? </em>You never turn down a night out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking...square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking...normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “...I’m thinking something black.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And ditch the bralet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. <em>Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing...that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to <em>Murder on the Dancefloor</em> and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are <em>fuck off</em> or <em>die</em>,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Birdseye Green Cuisine shit</em>,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Guysss, does <em>anyone</em> have an ID they can give me for tonight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about your friend? Who was it...Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles</em>,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in <em>five days</em> and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a <em>bang-bang-bang</em> to get the excess pasta sauce off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain't given her it back yet an' I'm sure she wouldn't care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s no way this’ll work.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar...well...you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”    </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so...that’ll probably be enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A’whora, have you <em>seen</em> my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room <em>is</em> a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh <em>yes,</em> baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- <em>A’whora’s </em>bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s screwed.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. february- felt a certain way for ages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tayce has always hated Valentine’s day. But will hatching a plan with Lawrence and spending the day with A’whora change her opinion on it this year?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank u all SO SO much for the love and support on this!!!! i have been a bit of a depression slug recently so i've not replied to everyone yet but honestly if uv left me a comment or some love thank u so so much, it means the WORLD! </p>
<p>content warning for SMUT!!!!!!!! HERE WI FUCKIN GO!!!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tayce thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that they’ve not been caught yet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Honestly, she should’ve known how her and A’whora attempting to sneak around would go from the start; it’s not as if either of them are subtle people. Between A’whora always needing people’s eyes and attention to be on her and Tayce simply being unable <em>not</em> to attract attention, it’s hard for either of them to be covert in any way, shape or form. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time (or first three times in quick succession) back last month had been easy enough; by the time Bimini, Lawrence and Ellie had returned back to the flat from their day drinking expedition with Ellie’s friend they’d all been too drunk to see their hands in front of their faces, never mind notice that Tayce’s room smelt of sex and that A’whora’s top was on back to front. But living with four other people and trying to find a time where they’re all out of the flat at the same time is like gold dust, so a lot of the time Tayce and A’whora will disappear to one of their rooms (ten minutes apart, so as not to attract suspicion) and then have to spend the entire rendezvous talking in hushed whispers or biting down hard on their lips or whining into their pillows to make sure nobody boots down the door and demands to know what’s going on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, even if it’s quiet and covert, Tayce is nothing short of addicted to this new layer of the relationship she has with A’whora. There’s something intoxicating about giving A’whora what she wants: it’s in the way her big, pleading doe-eyes flutter shut in ecstasy, the way her lips drop open from a bratty pout into a blissful gasp or a too-loud moan that makes Tayce feel like clamping a hand over her mouth. It’s surely only a matter of time before the others find out and ruin this whole thing for them so Tayce wants to make sure A’whora doesn’t blow their cover, because there’s part of her that loves keeping it all under wraps like it’s their own little secret they share. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, the sight of A’whora biting down hard on her knuckles when she’s trying desperately not to make a sound is never one that Tayce is going to pass up on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s the way she goes quiet when things get intense and Tayce has to draw her words out of her like she does her orgasm, because aside from the fact that she needs to know if A’whora’s enjoying everything Tayce is doing, the way she starts blushing whenever she tells her what she wants or how good something feels is sinful enough to make Tayce believe that maybe hell wouldn’t be so bad. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The juxtaposition of the devilishness A’whora manages to radiate whilst looking like and talking with the voice of an angel isn’t lost on Tayce. The way she’s so eager to please, the way she always asks if everything’s okay, the way she’ll look up from between Tayce’s legs with that ever-so-slightly deer in the headlights look with her juice smeared across her lips like gloss and wait for Tayce to tell her everything feels amazing before she’ll relax, and a mischievous grin will take hold on her face before she’ll continue pushing her increasingly closer to the edge. Tayce had always thought praise kinks were a myth but A’whora is the living Kelpie that disproves her theory. She only ever needs to tell her that she’s a good girl, or that she’s pretty, or that she’s perfect (usually with a <em>princess</em> tacked onto it for good measure) for A’whora to whimper and beg, greedy and impatient. The way she reacts to the praise is enough to make Tayce want to keep giving it, so she supposes the relationship is a symbiotic one. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s funny the way they seem to swap personalities in bed. Tayce- who usually can’t shut up or slow down if her life depended on it- likes hushed giggles, breathy gasps, biting hard on her lip to make sure she’s not too loud. She likes to draw out the foreplay and teasing until they’re both burning up and so wet they drip down their thighs and onto the sheets, and when she fucks A’whora she’s always painstaking and precise, slow and languid. A’whora, for her part, is the opposite. She moans and whines and bucks her hips in the air, always desperate for satisfaction and to satisfy Tayce in return. She knows exactly how to push Tayce to the edge and then over it and she never wastes a minute getting there, sometimes ripping two or three orgasms from her in quick succession with nothing short of relentless, smug determination. They shouldn’t work together but Jesus Christ, they <em>do. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s because of all this that the way they sneak around has become a kind of foreplay for them. The trips to the smoking area on nights out just so Tayce can back A’whora against the wall and crash her lips against hers needily. The squeeze they’ll give each others’ thighs under the table if they’ve all gone somewhere for dinner together, and the twinkle in both of their eyes acting as a promise of things to come later. The text A’whora gives Tayce from the sofa opposite as they’re all sitting around watching whatever shite Tia has stuck on that simply says “<em>i want to </em>👅<em> your </em>🐈 <em>until you </em>💦” which makes Tayce almost choke on whatever she happens to be eating or drinking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she supposes the rest of her flatmates have been too wrapped up in their own feelings to even notice her and A’whora’s lack of subtlety. The end of January saw Tia finally make things official with Veronica who she’d been seeing for a few months already, so she’s been bouncing around the flat with a spring in her step and a permanent smile on her face and always humming or singing a cheerful tune under her breath. Tayce is happy for the girl, she really is, but even she has to admit the pair of them acting like little loved-up Sylvanian Family squirrels is vaguely nauseating; the way they’ll nuzzle each others’ noses while curled up together on the sofa and the way they happily belt along to Heathers while they make pancakes together at eight in the morning on a Sunday, which is never the hangover cure they seem to think it is. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In stark contrast, Ellie has been stomping through the flat for the past few weeks or so as if she’s an assassin with a bounty on Cupid. At literally any mention of love or romance she’s there with a fake retch or a huge roll of her blue eyes, talking about how she wishes every couple on earth would drop off the face of it. She has stark disregard for Tia’s happiness, preferring instead to wallow in her own misery. It’s immature and it’s petty and it’s completely ridiculous but Tayce supposes Ellie is hurt and heartbroken, and Tia and Veronica are getting the brunt of it because they’re the root cause. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Ellie is bad then Lawrence is worse. If Ellie is pissed off then Lawrence is woeful, and she’s not much better whenever she’s forced to be around the flat’s new couple. Her usually cheerful jokes poking fun at her various flatmates are now entirely based around how single she is, all delivered as if Eeyore had a stand-up set. There’s only so many times Tayce can fake-laugh at each variation, only so much enthusiasm she can inject into the laugh she gives in response to <em>“I’m so single I canny even get a bus to hit on me”</em>. Combined with the constant way <em>Crazy for You</em> is getting blasted from behind her closed bedroom door on a loop, Lawrence has been acting like the lesbian reincarnation of Bridget Jones for entirely too long to be considered acceptable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why don’t we just tell Els that Lawrence likes her?” A’whora had suggested, as they’d lain in Tayce’s bed naked apart from her duvet that was wrapped around them both and the opening drum beat to <em>Crazy for You </em>had cut through the wall for the third time in the past ten minutes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Tayce <em>knows</em> Lawrence had asked her not to tell A’whora about her crush on Ellie. She <em>does</em> feel bad for telling A’whora about her crush on Ellie. But when A’whora had asked her why she thought Lawrence had been behaving like a war-era mourning widow for the past few weeks it had just slipped out. Besides, the threat of a month without sex that Tayce had used as leverage so A’whora wouldn’t blab to Ellie about it has so far seemed to be good enough motivation. As it stands neither of them seem to be able to go three days without a shag, so she’s really hoping A’whora doesn’t open her big mouth for both their sakes.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not that simple,” Tayce had muttered, threading some of A’whora’s long, straight hair through her fingers absent-mindedly as she spoke. “There’s <em>feelings</em> there, they wouldn’t be able to just fall together like we did. It’s messier when there’s crushes involved. With us it’s just good sex with a good friend, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora had gone quiet as she nodded, a minute frown appearing on her face. Tayce supposes it had been as a result of the prospect of more Madonna ballads from Lawrence’s room for the foreseeable future.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bimini, who Tayce has been the most concerned about picking up on something being different between her and A’whora, has been surprisingly and uncharacteristically imperceptive. Bimini being Bimini hasn’t let on that there’s anything different going on with them, but Tayce is sure it’s got something to do with the bashful smile they give their phone screen sometimes, or the way they seem to be at the flat with them all less and less of late, or the uni project they’re completing with their friend Asttina which seems to have been going on for about a fortnight. Whatever it is, they seem happier than usual; a little cheerful glow lighting them up from the inside out that Tayce just <em>knows</em> there’s a reason behind. She’ll let them tell her in their own time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If the atmosphere in the flat had been full of mixed-up, chaotic sets of feelings before, then when it reaches Valentine’s Day it’s on another level entirely. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce begins her day waking up, rubbing her eyes, and stretching as far as her bones and muscles will allow. She’s alone in bed- she and A’whora never sleep over in each others’ rooms, the overwhelming amount of suspicion it would draw the next day would be staggering- but Tayce sometimes wonders what it <em>would</em> be like to wake up with A’whora. Maybe she’d be curled around her, having sought her out in the night to cuddle. Maybe she talks in her sleep. Maybe she snores. Tayce doesn’t know why she’s thinking about this, or indeed why she wants to know what it would be like. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They’re just friends, after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sleepily snatches up her phone from her bedside table, checks the time (10am, a decent enough lie in) and then checks her notifications. She’s got a Whatsapp message from A’whora and she ends up spluttering a laugh as she opens it. It’s a photo of her having clearly just woken up, hair all messy in its bun and bags under her brown eyes. She’s sinking into the pillow and pulling a face that gives her a double chin. She looks a state, but something about the photo makes Tayce’s heart happy. It’s the fact that A’whora- the same A’whora who took a month before she let her flatmates see her without makeup, does a full face before even going to Tesco, and fake tans twice a week- has sent her a selfie with a sleepy, bare, ridiculous face. Tayce has always felt a little like their friendship has been a series of breaking down A’whora’s walls and with this, another one has crumbled. It’s nice that she trusts Tayce enough with every little part of her, and it’s a responsibility that Tayce doesn’t take lightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The message that accompanies the photo says “<em>Happy valentine’s day bestie xxx” </em>and Tayce feels her heart flutter a bit. It should feel weird that A’whora’s acknowledging the significance of the day. It’s kind of overstepping the line they’ve drawn together, it’s sort of breaking an unspoken promise. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But regardless, Tayce doesn’t mind. She actually likes it, more than she probably should. So she taps her nails against the screen, smiling in spite of herself as her message starts to appear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>T: that selfie’s really doing it for me uno</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>T: got me all excited for the romantic valentine’s day sex we’re gonna be having xo</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The screen tells her that A’whora’s typing, and she can feel the heat begin to pool in her stomach already at the prospect of some flirty texts to start the day off. That is until there’s a muffled drum beat and an oboe that drifts into Tayce’s consciousness through the wall, and she realises with visceral frustration that Lawrence is playing that <em>god damn bloody fucking song again</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce lifts her leg and kicks the wall that separates her room and Lawrence’s with a <em>thud thud thud</em>, hoping it’ll make it all stop- the soundtrack to her friend’s emotional pining doesn’t double up as a good soundtrack to dirty texting. To Tayce’s exasperation, however, her door flies open a few moments later, and she cranes her neck and buries her phone under her pillow to find that Lawrence has invited herself in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you knock?” she asks inquisitively. Tayce narrows her eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If ‘knocked’ means ‘banged on the wall to shut you up’, then yeah, I did,” Tayce deadpans. Lawrence doesn’t seem to take the hint and instead lets out a dramatic sign, flops down beside Tayce on her bed as if to fully illustrate the fact she isn’t leaving anytime soon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayyyce,” she begins, whining pitifully. Lawrence is never one to conceal how she’s feeling and always wears her heart on her sleeve, which Tayce can appreciate in a friend. If Lawrence is annoyed, she’ll tell you. If Lawrence is happy, she’ll show it. If Lawrence is pining after her best friend she’s been in love with for years, she’ll let everyone know...apart from the only girl it affects directly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it, babe?” Tayce asks sympathetically, rolling onto her side to give her friend a cuddle. She knows what the matter is, but she also knows Lawrence clearly wants to vent, so she’ll be a good friend and let her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence huffs a sigh. “Tia’s all loved up with Veronica in the kitchen and Bimini’s probably off shagging their pal right now and Ellie’s never going to know I exist as anything other than a friend. I fuckin’ hate Valentine’s Day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce would normally agree. Tayce usually hates it too. It’s corporate and cheap and tokenistic, as if the only ways people can show love are through red roses, chocolate or teddies. Pick one or all three, give them to the person you love the most otherwise did you ever really love them at all? Maybe she’d like it better if she had someone to spend it with, but she’s not. She’s never. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Apart from today, that is. Apart from A’whora. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s bullshit,” Tayce nods, squeezing Lawrence’s side. “But hey, you’re not on your own, girl. I’ve not got anyone to spend it with either, and neither’s A’whora.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence sticks her bottom lip out. “Yeah, but you two aren’t all sad with feelings and crushes. I mean, we all know A’whora’s not got a heart so she’s off to a flyer already.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce laughs at Lawrence’s joke even though they both know it couldn’t be less true if she tried. She pokes Lawrence’s arm, frowning and unable to stand her moping much longer. “Well, why don’t you try and make a move today? Y’know, show Ellie why you’re a good option as well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A good option? Sorry, I didn’t realise I’m sat in a fridge next to a sandwich as part of a Tesco meal deal,” Lawrence rolls her eyes. Tayce nudges her with her foot to make a point. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck off. You know what I mean! Hang out with her, do something fun. Maybe dial up the flirting a bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence rolls over onto her side to face her, as if to drive home the pointed stare she’s fixing her with. “Have you ever seen me trying to flirt? There’s a reason I’ve never brought a girl back here. I mean my vagina’s so out of use I think it’s closed up like a pierced ear nobody’s put an earring through in a while.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce lets out a screech, part-horrified, part-disgusted. Her stomach hurts as she tries to collect herself, and an idea forms in her mind. “You could <em>so</em> do it if you tried. Hey, here’s what to do, right? Tia and Veronica are going out for that big romantic beach walk Tia’s been talking our ears off about for weeks. Bimini’s missing in action, as you said, and probably will be for most of the day. And I’ll get A’whora out of the flat for a while. So that means you’ve got Ellie all to yourself, on Valentine’s day, ready to be...I don’t know, wined, dined and sixty-nined.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s Lawrence’s turn to howl in disgust now, but the sparkle’s back in her eyes as she grins at Tayce. “I don’t think we’re at that stage yet, doll. But I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I mean she’s never gonna see me as anything more than a friend if I keep acting like only that, is she?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce smiles, glad to see she’s instilled some confidence in her friend. “That’s my girl!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence claps her hands together decisively. “There we go, then. I’ll have her drippin’ like a knackered fridge in no time!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair of them burst out into untethered shrieks of laughter, ones that draw footsteps from the hall and cause Tayce’s door to open again, this time to reveal both Ellie and A’whora. It looks as if the pair of them were together too, and Tayce thinks it wouldn't be unusual if Ellie had been venting to A’whora about her own unrequited crush. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the hell is so funny? I’m trying to do a big emotional, dramatic monologue about my broken heart to this one but I can’t, because all we can hear is your monkey screeching through the wall,” Ellie grumps, sitting herself down at the foot of the bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We were shagging. That’s just the noise I make when I come,” Lawrence deadpans. As Ellie and A’whora splutter a laugh, Tayce fixes Lawrence with an incredulous stare, one which she hopes communicates “<em>if that was you flirting then what the fuck?”</em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“G’wan, Els. Do your big monologue here,” Tayce encourages her, budging up as A’whora squashes onto the bed too even though there’s barely room for two at the best of times, never mind four. A’whora groans long-sufferingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please don’t make me sit through it again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie turns to her friend, affronted. “Girl!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m joking, babe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Appeased, Ellie lets out a plaintive little sigh as she casts her gaze up to the ceiling. “I’m just fucked off. I mean I <em>get</em> that Tia’s happy, and I’m happy for her-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No you’re not,” Lawrence cuts in matter-of-factly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No I’m not, but that’s beside the point,” Ellie rolls with the interruption, making Tayce snort with her honesty. “I just wish they weren’t...rubbing it in my face all the time, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They can’t rub it in your face if they don’t <em>know</em> you like Tia, Ellie. You can’t get annoyed at them for existing,” A’whora pulls a face, honest to a fault. It’s something else that Tayce really appreciates about her; she knows she’ll never get bullshitted by A’whora, knows she’s truthful and upfront. It’s just another part of what makes their arrangement work so well- she knows A’whora’s not exactly going to be covering up any feelings anytime soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie continues with a huff. “I know. And I <em>know</em> I’m being unfair, and I <em>know</em> I’m being immature about it all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give yourself some credit, girl, you only just turned eighteen about five minutes ago. You’re allowed to be immature,” Tayce quips, earning a laugh from A’whora and Lawrence and a scowl from Ellie that she knows she doesn’t really mean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It just sucks not being able to turn my feelings off. I want to get over her, you know? It’s just hard when we live together and Veronica’s round all the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a lull in conversation where the girls hum in agreement and empathy. Tayce chooses this time to sneakily elbow Lawrence in her side, as if to nudge her towards spending time with Ellie. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lawrence takes the hint. “Ellie, what’re you doing today, hen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ellie looks despondently at her. “Probs greetin’ into a pint of Haagen Dazs. How?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m wanting to dye my hair,” Lawrence says, and the niche context for spending time together knocks Tayce for six a little. “And although I wouldn’t trust you to keep a succulent alive, I’d trust you to do a not awful job of hairdresser duties. You wanty help me out with it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce tries not to look at A’whora because she knows they’ll end up sharing a knowing smile that’s entirely too suspicious as Ellie’s face lights up. “If anything would cheer me up right now it’s the prospect of fucking up your hair beyond all recognition.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Brilliant,” Lawrence deadpans, though there’s a little smile on her lips which suggests to Tayce that Ellie could very well completely shave her completely bald then dye her scalp yellow and Lawrence would still thank her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce turns to smile at A’whora. Time to hold up her end of the deal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I don’t much fancy staying to deal with the fallout of this inevitable disaster. You wanna go for brunch somewhere?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s so clearly trying to bite back her smile, make it seem more contained and controlled, but it still spreads across her face like a sunbeam and it warms Tayce’s heart like one too. “Alright. S’pose I could squeeze you into the calendar somewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the pair of them lock eyes and Tayce struggles to suppress her own smile, the girls are interrupted by a knock on the door. Tayce shouts them in, figuring they might as well squeeze a few more people onto the bed while they’re at it and attempt some sort of world record, but it’s Tia and Veronica and they aren’t staying long judging by the fact they’ve both got their jackets on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just saying goodbye before our lil’ seaside adventure!” Tia smiles, her happiness completely uncontained and radiating from her; if A’whora’s smile was a sunbeam then Tia encapsulates the energy of the whole burning star. Tayce is happy for her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have fun girlies, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tayce smiles, waggling her fingers in a wave. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aye, no sex on the beach!” Lawrence says, unsubtle and untactful as ever. Veronica flushes so red she borders on purple, and Ellie gives a laugh dripping in schadenfreude. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wind your bloody neck in, you menace,” Veronica bites back good-humouredly, the dregs of her embarrassment still colouring her cheeks. “Have you seen the weather forecast for today? It’s absolutely freezing!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That the only thing stopping you? Sure you wouldn’t be the only people in existence that’ve tried to shag wearing two jumpers and a parka,” Lawrence continues to joke, and by now Ellie is a collapsed heap on the bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tia speaks for her girlfriend who’s still blushing fire-engine red. “Well usually, Lawrence, you wear sexy underwear for your girlfriend on Valentine’s day. Not that you’d know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora and Ellie let out a little whoop of shock in response to the shady comment, which neither Lawrence nor Tayce join in with. Tayce deigns to give it a little smirk, but knowing how Lawrence has been feeling for the past few weeks kind of removes the humour of the comment for her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here, watch it. Only I’m allowed to make jokes about how single I am,” Lawrence herself narrows her eyes in response, before smiling tightly at the loved-up pair. “Anyway, have a lovely time, you two!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We will!” Veronica practically squeaks in delight, flicking some of her blonde hair over her shoulders as she loops her arm through Tia’s and they leave the flat, the front door clicking behind them. There’s a silence in Tayce’s room before Lawrence speaks again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Smug wee gits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of the girls dissolve into giggles, Tayce whacking Lawrence on the arm. “Shut up, bitter Betty. Go make your bad hair choices.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, let’s go!” Ellie claps excitedly before reaching out for Lawrence’s hand. She of course accepts gladly, a hint of pink blush to her cheeks as she’s dragged out of the room by her enthusiastic friend. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The moment Tayce’s door shuts A’whora shimmies up next to her side, a little twinkle in her eye that Tayce knows all too well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey you,” she smiles, throwing an arm and a leg over Tayce in a full-body hug. Tayce laughs at her clinginess, how she remembers A’whora describing herself as<em> “not much of a huggy person” </em>when they first met in freshers’ week and now she’s the human embodiment of a baby koala. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop flirting, God,” Tayce shoots back playfully, watching the affronted expression take hold on A’whora’s face for only a second before pulling her in for a kiss that A’whora instantly turns up the heat of. Her lips are soft but her kiss is full of a hunger that makes something inside Tayce tighten up, and there’s something about the way A’whora clearly wants her that leaves her feeling ever-so-slightly breathless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, that’s enough of that,” Tayce jokes as she pulls away, and A’whora’s plaintive pout is almost motivation enough to keep going. But Tayce has made a promise to Lawrence, so she doubles down. “C’mon, get ready. And wear something classy as well, we ain’t going to some scaff caff we could spend any old hungover morning in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, were you serious about brunch?” A’whora’s expression changes, her smile becoming almost shy. It’s ever-so-slightly adorable and completely endearing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, girl! I said to Lawrence I’d take you out so that her and Ellie can have some alone time. Get your shit sorted,” Tayce explains.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s shutters that go down behind A’whora’s eyes suddenly, and Tayce narrows her eyes, confused. “Unless you’re not keen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, of course I’m keen!” A’whora brightens up a little, smiles at Tayce mischievously. “If you’re taking me out, though, you’re paying.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce blurts out a laugh. “Fuck off! Fine, I’ll pay today. Just means you have to pay next time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh there’s a next time, is there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s batting her lashes at her flirtatiously, but her words have made Tayce’s heart do a little somersault. She supposes what they’re doing is a little bit like a date, and that’s not what their relationship is. They used to hang out like that, though, used to do things just the pair of them like go to the library and pretend to do work, go for lunch at Nandos, watch films together curled up in bed. In a way, Tayce supposes nothing has changed. It would be weird to <em>not</em> hang out just the two of them just because they’ve started hooking up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Tayce just returns the smile, casual and chill because that’s what they’ve agreed to be. “I gotta get paid back somehow, don’t I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Could pay you back in other ways,” A’whora winks, and Tayce splutters in a giggle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut your whore mouth or we’ll never bloody leave the flat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They get ready after that, anticipative energy radiating through the wall of A’whora’s room. Tayce feels almost a little nervous. She doesn’t know why. It’s just a brunch, and it’s just A’whora. If she thinks about it, though, A’whora’s never been <em>just </em>A’whora. Tayce has always found an element of joy in spending time with her that she hasn’t ever felt with the others. The spark that goes off in her heart whenever A’whora laughs at one of her jokes, the comfort she takes in just being in the same room as her. The way Tayce has always looked forward to the time they get to spend alone together and the way that, since they started whatever the hell this is, that feeling has only intensified. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It feels more intense now than it ever has before, though. Maybe because it’s a little bit like a date. Maybe because it’s exactly like a date. Maybe because Tayce shouldn’t be this happy about that fact. Maybe the way she used to fancy A’whora- the way she used to just want to kiss her and get her in her bed- has evolved since they started this whole friends-with-benefits situation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She takes a little deep breath, frowning at herself as she does her lipstick in the mirror. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pull yourself together, girl,” she mutters under her breath; because really, what the hell kind of levels of freaked out would A’whora be if Tayce were to show or to tell her any of this? They’re just friends. Friends that hook up. Nothing more than that, and Tayce can’t let herself hope that hard either. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora knocks on Tayce’s door just as she’s securing two gold hoops into her ears. She’s taken the <em>wear something classy</em> brief as seriously as Tayce knew she would, and she’s dressed in a short, black leather skirt and a black and white tailored shirt; one colour on each side, separated by buttons down the middle. Every little detail and accessory has been as thought out as an outfit from a fashion student could be: a pearl choker around her neck and a pearl headband through her intricately curled hair, simple silver earrings and a pink faux fur coat and the black Michael Kors bag that Tayce knows has been her pride and joy since she got it for Christmas. Her legs are bare and she’s wearing high black stilettos which make her legs look entirely too good, and in turn fill Tayce’s head with memories that she needs to push out of her head or else the outfit A’whora’s spent so long putting together is going to end up on the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Love this,” Tayce points at her approvingly, and A’whora’s smile is a little bashful as she gives a twirl. “You look stunning. I mean, you’ll be freezing. But you’ll be stunning and freezing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just means you can warm me up later,” A’whora winks at her, and Tayce hides a giggle behind her hand. She <em>never</em> used to get shy if a girl flirted with her, especially not one with the lack of flirting abilities that A’whora possesses. She could always give as good as she got, she still can. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce doesn’t know, though. Something about the past month with A’whora has changed her a little now that their relationship is inherently more intimate. Tayce can drop the cool, calm and collected persona she always used to wear to get girls into bed. Instead she’s allowed herself to be a little more goofy, a little more wild and animated and energised. A little more herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You look stunning too, though,” A’whora adds with sincerity, the little grin on her face only making matters worse. Tayce has decided on a white shirt dress she’s cinched in at the waist with a huge belt, and paired it with thigh high vinyl boots. It’s one of those outfits she owns which is low effort but high payoff, especially when A’whora’s got a little twinkle in her eye like that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce snorts, grabs her bag from the side of her bed and whacks A’whora with it. “Stop trying to flatter me into bed and let’s go, gorgeous.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They leave the flat with a shout of goodbye to Ellie and Lawrence, but judging from the way the door’s open and the showerhead’s running and both girls are yelping and laughing in the midst of some water fight, they aren’t able to hear it. Tayce leads A’whora through the cobbled streets and winding, dipping roads of the city as she talks a mile-a-minute about where they’re going and how she hopes they’ll have a free table. She almost wants to reach out and take A’whora’s hand, entwine their fingers together like another piece of the puzzle they share clicking into place. She doesn’t, but she wants to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s sure the feeling will pass, anyway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s sure it’s normal for her heart to swell as much as it’s currently doing as she walks beside A’whora, for it to flutter like a moth to a light whenever she smiles and flashes her teeth. A’whora is beautiful, and Tayce is sure that even friends that didn’t fuck would get tongue-tied if one of them was as stunning as she is. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>To her delight, the brunch spot she’d had in mind has a table free for them; one beside the feature wall of plastic pink, blue and yellow flowers which Tayce already knows A’whora will be asking to take her photo in front of. She’s never actually been here before but she’s seen pictures on Instagram of the pink painted walls and pastel blue chairs and the white marble tabletops with shiny gold cutlery on top. She’s eyed up the breakfasts; avocado sourdough, eggs with golden yolks, and something which they’ve branded ‘donut French toast’ which A’whora is currently telling Tayce how excited she is to order, her eyes sparkling. If this <em>was</em> a date, it would be the perfect venue. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s just a pity that it isn’t. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They order two mimosas with their breakfasts- because fuck it, it’s Valentine’s day, and Tayce wants to celebrate the fact she’s got someone to spend it with even if it is just a friend- and the two of them fall into easy chat about all kinds of topics; uni, their courses, life at home in Wales and Worksop. Dating somebody new comes with stilted conversations, awkward pauses, the potential to cover a touchy subject. With A’whora there’s none of that. They already know each other inside out so they don’t have anything to re-learn. Tayce tells A’whora stories about Cara and Cheryl and understands when A’whora doesn’t join in with stories about her own friends from home. Instead, A’whora brings up their flatmates.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I get really existential about it all. Y’know, fate and stuff,” A’whora frowns across the table at her mid-conversation. “Like, what are the odds the five strangers I’d live with in first year would be people I all get on with and genuinely like? And most of them would become my best friends in the world. You know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce nods understandingly. “No, I get that. And like, fate putting Ellie and Lawrence in the same flat when they’d known each other for that long. And Tia and Bimini on the same train up when they moved in. What a small world?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everything happens for a reason,” A’whora says quietly, shaken out of her small reverie by the plate of sugar-covered toast that’s being placed in front of her and thanking the waitress politely. Tayce can’t help but splutter a laugh when they’re left alone together again, looking at how A’whora’s eyes have lit up at the food in front of her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re like a child! An actual child. Swear to God, girl, you’ve got the same eating habits as Will Ferrel in <em>Elf</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora cackles a laugh opposite her. Tayce wonders why it gives her such a sense of pride when A’whora laughs at something she says. Well, no- she knows exactly why, and the reason makes her stomach flip over like clothes in a tumble drier. She can’t think too much about that, though, so she thinks of something else quickly to take her mind off it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right. I’ve got a fun game. First impressions of the five of us, go,” Tayce says, the idea coming to her as a result of what A’whora’s said. In response A’whora’s eyebrows shoot up, a scheming smile on her face as she tilts her head to consider her response. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ooh, well...easiest one is Bimini, because obviously I loved them from the get go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How could you not?” Tayce agrees, spearing a strawberry from the pancakes she’s ordered herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They just had this calm, kind aura that just immediately made me feel loads better about being away from home,” A’whora continues, nodding earnestly. “Same with Lawrence, although she was different. I actually thought she was batshit crazy. Or like, an alien, because no one human could be that funny.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Snorting, Tayce points a finger at A’whora in recognition. “Jesus, that’s so true! I mean I’ve told you the story of when I first got to the flat? I actually thought she might’ve been on something. But that’s just who she is; when she’s up she’s up and when she’s down she’s down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a pause as A’whora eats some more of her French toast, her gaze fixing on the wall as she thinks. “Ellie was the opposite. I didn’t know what to make of her at first. She was dead quiet and I think my back was up because I hated her dress sense.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce splutters. “Of course it was.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But now, like...God, don’t you miss the days when Ellie was quiet?” A’whora laughs affectionately. “I don’t know what I’d do without her, though.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She seemed a little more reserved than the others at first. But then that comes back to what you were saying about fate, because Lawrence definitely helped bring her out of her shell a bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora nods as she considers Tayce’s words, then her face breaks into a smile and she hides a guilty laugh behind her hands. “Tia...I thought I would not get on with at all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce sips her drink and shrugs. “Well, you <em>didn’t</em> get on with her at first.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“True. She’s just not somebody I would’ve ever hung out with before. I mean she’s told me before she thinks I would’ve bullied her in school, which, to be fair, I might’ve done,” A’whora pulls a guilty face. “But I guess being somehow the only two bitches with the ability to clean the flat is one hell of a bonding opportunity.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce feels her jaw drop open, offended. “Hey! I clean the flat!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora smirks. “Oh what, you pour undiluted Zoflora into the overflowing bin bag so it doesn’t smell, instead of actually...I don’t know, taking the bin out? My mistake, sorry. You’re actually the second coming of Mrs Hinch.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair of them giggle together and Tayce sticks out her tongue in response. She takes a bite of her own breakfast before thinking about the girl they’re considering.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought Tia was nice. Fun. I never saw her becoming my bestie or anything, but you know,” Tayce shrugs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, that title was reserved for me,” A’whora smiles smugly. Tayce decides to have a bit of fun with her, tilts her head and narrows her eyes a little. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You mean Bimini?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck off,” A’whora fires back instantly, and Tayce throws her head back in a laugh. The laughter dies down as both girls eat some more of their food, until Tayce frowns at A’whora suddenly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You never said me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh!” A’whora realises. Tayce thinks for a second that she could be blushing, but the sun has begun to appear behind the clouds and the light is shining through the glass windows and hitting the pink walls. It could just be that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks gorgeous for it regardless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want me to go first?” Tayce smirks, breaking out into a laugh as A’whora gives her an unimpressed glare. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, because I already know you’re gonna tell me you thought I was a total weirdo.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not true! I actually thought you were a lot like me. Scared, nervous, a bit emotional. Well,” Tayce reaches across the table and pokes her playfully. “Maybe a bit more emotional than I was, but you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora rolls her eyes. “Good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But seriously, I thought we were actually quite similar, y’know, underneath it all,” Tayce says, her voice growing a little quiet as she thinks. “It’s weird, isn’t it? The first maybe...month of uni. Everyone’s figuring shit out and either building new facades or letting their old ones from school or their hometowns drop. It’s rare you find someone who’s just real from the get-go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora nods. “I think that was another reason why I was so scared. Because I was one of the bitches in school, and coming here I didn’t have those toxic friendships around me anymore. And you coming into my room on that first day was like...the first time in a while someone had actually been nice? And kind? So I guess I didn’t have much of a choice to just be myself. But also there was a part of me that didn’t really know what that looked like. You know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The conversation’s taken a deep turn, and Tayce doesn’t really know why. It’s not a result of one singular mimosa, she knows that much. But she’s glad A’whora feels like she’s able to talk like this with her. She knows it’s not always easy for her to open up to her friends, she knows she’s been burned in the past. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Tayce reaches out across the table and takes her hand. “Well, to me...Aurora is a caring, kind, loyal friend. She has the biggest heart and all this love to give to so many people. She’s a shady hound, but we all love her for it. And all her friends treasure her because they know how lucky they are to have her in their lives.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce can tell A’whora’s trying to stop herself from smiling, and her gaze drops down to the table bashfully as she tucks her hair behind her ears. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed, self-conscious of the way all the diamonds of her personality have been excavated and laid bare. For a second Tayce feels a flush hit her face, wondering if she’s overstepped a mark, but then A’whora’s eyes lock onto hers and she’s smiling gratefully. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks, Tayce.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce would love to take her other hand. Tayce would love to lean over the table and kiss her in front of everyone else in the room. Tayce would love to tell A’whora everything she’s feeling, all these little moments and emotions illustrating a bigger picture that Tayce just wants her to colour in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But they’re friends. So Tayce gives A’whora’s hand one last squeeze and winks at her as she draws her hand away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re welcome. Slag.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then they’re smiling at each other, and the conversation moves on. A’whora never did say what her first impressions of Tayce were, and it’s too late to ask her again. Tayce supposes it doesn’t really matter all that much. She’s more interested in how A’whora feels about her now. For example- does she feel the same way Tayce is feeling? Is she sitting opposite her trying to stop her heart jumping every time she smiles, trying to stop the butterflies fluttering in her stomach? Tayce is an upfront, honest girl. She’s blunt, and normally she’d ask. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But this situation isn’t normal, and something’s stopping her. Tayce always used to be the girl in primary school who’d play with the boys, run around the playground roaring until her lungs were hoarse pretending to be a tiger or a dragon, roll across the dusty tarmac getting her knees scraped and dirty. One thing she always, <em>always</em> used to pride herself on was her fearlessness. She’d puff up her chest before the flu vaccines, the dentist, any remotely fearful situation and hit out with “<em>I’m not scared of anything”. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why is she so scared now? Because she’s older, and life’s big worries are no longer a needle or a tiny mirror in her mouth. She’s not afraid of anything physical, things she can see; it’s the things she doesn’t know, the things she can’t work out that scare her so much. The thought of telling A’whora that what she feels for her might not be strictly friendship any longer gives her an adrenaline rush worse than any rollercoaster she’s been on, and it’s not entirely a good kind either. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The waitress appears to clear their plates and Tayce slaps her card down against the little metal tray ready to be tapped against the reader to pay the bill, just like she’d promised. It’s funny, though, that A’whora’s lost all her gumption now the time has actually come for Tayce to follow through on her promise, and as the waitress reappears A’whora is protesting wildly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You honestly don’t have to pay. I was just joking!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce laughs incredulously. “Oh that was a joke, was it? Seemed like a legally binding contract when we were at the flat!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up, hound,” A’whora sticks her tongue between her teeth as she smiles cheekily. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The waitress hands her card back to Tayce and she keeps talking as she puts it away in her purse. “Well, don’t feel bad. As I said, the next one’s on you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As A’whora raises her eyebrows, the waitress fixes them with a cheery smile. “Thanks so much for popping in today, ladies, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day! Is this your first one together?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce chokes a little on nothing, tries to stop her eyes from flying wide open. She doesn’t dare meet A’whora’s eye as she shakes her head. “No, uh, we’re-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, I knew it couldn’t have been your first, I could totally tell you’d been together way longer! Well may I say, you make a lovely couple,” she continues breezily, Tayce finally meeting A’whora’s gaze and trying not to laugh. The waitress thanks them once more before disappearing, and the two girls are left in a small bubble of silence before A’whora releases her giggles, Tayce putting her hands up to her burning hot cheeks. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jesus, Mary and Nora, what the hell was that? The Spanish Inquisition?” Tayce babbles, and A’whora doubles over opposite her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well it <em>is</em> Valentine’s day, Tayce. It’s not that wild to assume two good-looking girls like us with such obvious chemistry are head-over-heels in love with each other,” A’whora winks. Tayce feels her heart do a backflip at the mention of <em>that word</em>, and she’s got about a split-second to cover up the fact her whole body’s been rocked by a ten on the richter scale. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Just continue the joke.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, yeah. Long-term relationship, married, house, kids. The babas.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora splutters a laugh, gestures around her. “Except we don’t know where the little shits are!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two of them are in fits again, and for a moment Tayce could pretend that it <em>is</em> all real, that maybe in a different world this <em>is</em> a date, and they <em>are</em> together, and everything’s as simple as it was when she was little and not even scared of the dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They stumble back to the flat together all fizzy with anticipation, drunk off of one mimosa each and sheer excitable lust. The pair of them keep the joke going all the way home- they have a semi-detached house in the suburbs, their children are named Tarquin and Edith and they attend private school and go to hockey and rugby clubs, they have a live-in cleaner, they do their weekly shop at Waitrose- both of them making the story more fantastical and ridiculous with every new addition that by the time they arrive back at the flat Tayce’s stomach hurts from laughing and A’whora’s bottom lashes are smudged with mascara from her own tears of mirth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce shushes her as she turns the key in the lock of their front door, hiding her own giggles and pressing a finger to A’whora’s lips playfully. A’whora responds by opening her mouth and snapping like a crocodile, only serving to set Tayce off again as she takes her hand and opens the door, sneaking through it comically like a Scooby Doo character as they hang up their coats in the hall. Luckily, though, they don’t even need to be quiet. There’s a blast of a hairdryer from Ellie’s room which mingles with the sounds of Katy Perry behind the door, and two sets of screeching laughs that cut through the combination. Maybe Tayce and Lawrence’s plan is actually working. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce feels a familiar flutter in her stomach as she pulls A’whora into her room, her anticipation building. When she closes the door she whips round to find A’whora has already dumped her bag on Tayce’s floor and is sitting on the edge of Tayce’s bed, frantically trying to unbuckle her heels. They don’t even need to discuss what’s to come. They both know it’s all the other has been able to think about all morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce unzips her boots and sits beside A’whora, resting a hand on her bare thigh. She traces her fingers over her skin gently and presses a kiss against her neck, her heart thumping as she hears A’whora sigh gently in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce brings her lips up against her ear as she whispers. “I think you should keep them on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck,” A’whora hisses, her reaction so visceral despite Tayce not really having done anything at all yet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>True to form, A’whora swivels her head around to meet Tayce’s, cups her jaw and brings their lips together in a kiss that’s eager and frantic. She can hear her breathing- heavy and laboured and shuddery as her hands push into her hair, her fingers wrapping around little sections and pulling gently in a way that makes Tayce pull back to hiss through her teeth, dig her nails into A’whora’s inner thigh in stark contrast to the way she’s been gently teasing her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Behave,” Tayce warns.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know I can’t,” A’whora murmurs, cocking an eyebrow in response. She’s got Tayce’s dark lipstick painting her own lips now and it looks too good, makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together when she thinks about the lipstick marks she wants to leave all over her bare skin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can’t give you what you want if you don’t behave, princess,” Tayce responds, inching her hand up her thigh and stopping just short of where she knows A’whora wants her to. She wants it too, though. She wants to brush her fingers over the material of her underwear, feel how wet she probably already is. But not giving A’whora what she wants is just as fun as satisfying her, if only to see her being reduced to liquid form in front of her, full of frustration. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, Tayce,” A’whora pulls her in again, pressing kisses to her lips between snatches of sentences. “Want it so much, fuck.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Already? So impatient,” Tayce runs her thumb over her soft skin again. She’s burning up too but she’s not going to lose her own composure, not when the payoff of staying in control is so good. “You gonna be good for me, angel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mm-hm,” A’whora pouts against her lips. Tayce pulls away and the sight of A’whora’s half-lidded eyes with her pupils blown from lust isn’t helping her keep a handle on the situation at all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gently pushes A’whora back against the mattress, straddles her whilst unbuttoning her shirt and punctuating each button with a featherlight kiss, which she knows is driving A’whora out of her mind if the way she’s squirming underneath Tayce is anything to go by. A’whora’s scrabbling at the buttons on Tayce’s dress but she doesn’t have the patience or presence of mind that she does, and Tayce almost wants to giggle at the way she’s only done two buttons by the time Tayce has got her out of her shirt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck’s sake, why did we both choose to wear things with so many fucking <em>buttons</em>,” A’whora growls quietly in frustration. Before Tayce knows what’s happening, A’whora has grabbed each seam and pulled, ripping the buttons of her dress off to expose Tayce in her own bra with the criss-cross straps at the back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s staring at her slack-jawed and Tayce can only blink at her in response. She can’t decide if A’whora ruining her dress has pissed her off or turned her on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s definitely turned her on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, you’re in a whole <em>world</em> of trouble for that, missy,” she narrows her eyes, pulling the rest of her dress off before moving so she can tug down A’whora’s skirt. She’s left in a matching set of red lace which she looks so sinful in that Tayce’s brain hotwires. Judging from the way A’whora’s hips are bucking against thin air, though, she’s not the only one that’s wound up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jesus, Rory, lie still,” Tayce insists through a laugh. “I’m not about to try and eat you out and get a bloody pelvic bone to the face!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora whines, and Tayce watches her chest rise and fall rapidly as she stares up to the ceiling in a petulant huff. Her pout cracks, though, when Tayce spreads her legs and kneels between them, replacing her fingers with her lips as she kisses all the way up the inside of her thighs. The way A’whora huffs in frustration and grips the duvet with white knuckles makes Tayce’s core throb, and the need to touch herself is clouding her thoughts like smoke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She already feels like she’s on fire, so she supposes it’s apt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Tayce decides to have a little fun, pulls back from A’whora and sits on her heels as she lets a hand flutter across her stomach and under the waistband of her underwear. She’s not going to take it too far- she’s only trying to teach A’whora a lesson- but as she brushes her fingers over her clit Tayce can’t help but give a little gasp, the satisfaction flooding through her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The way A’whora flinches in horror and disappointment as she sits up and realises what’s happening makes Tayce feel momentarily sorry for her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayce!” she whines pitifully. “Fuck off, that’s not fair!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Life’s not fair, princess,” Tayce smirks, resting her other hand on her thigh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh my God, you’re such a bitch,” A’whora pouts at her. She knows A’whora could very easily start touching herself too, but Tayce knows she won’t. Tayce knows she only wants her, and that thought is so intoxicating that it knocks her for six a little, turning up the heat from a simmer to boiling point. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you want something from me, you’d better start being nicer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora sits up and takes Tayce by the hand, pulls her into a kiss that’s so intense and full of lust it almost topples her over. When she pulls back her eyes are so big and pleading that Tayce feels bad for ever teasing her in the first place. “Please, Tayce. You know I’ll be good for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce cocks an eyebrow at her, but she moves her hand and rests it against A’whora’s other thigh anyway. “That’s the best begging you can manage, is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora smirks. “I’m not used to begging, I usually don’t have much of a problem getting what I want.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce shakes her head, mocking her as she gently pushes her back against the sheets again. “Such a spoiled brat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Your</em> spoiled brat, though,” A’whora grins smugly, cutting herself off with a gasp as Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of her underwear and tugs it off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce knows she’s going to eat her out but seeing how wet A’whora is makes her consider fucking her with her fingers. It’s a tantalising thought; the way A’whora always has to clamp a hand over her mouth to shut herself up because her moans get too loud, the complete lack of self-control she has when she rides Tayce’s fingers and the way she’ll guide them into her mouth and suck her own juice off them afterwards- <em>Jesus fucking Christ. </em>Tayce needs some sort of release soon or she’s going to be too overwhelmed to speak.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wants to hear A’whora beg just a little bit more, though. Wants to feel her squirm and taste her on her tongue and trace patterns over her clit that make her whimper and tremble. So she kisses up her thighs again but this time she doesn’t waste any time in brushing over her clit with her tongue, the broken whine A’whora gives at the contact sounding completely illegal. A’whora pushes a hand into Tayce’s hair needily, and Tayce can hear her breathing coming in short gasps as she licks over her slit, swirls her tongue over her clit in a way she knows is good but isn’t what A’whora <em>wants</em>. Tayce is being deliberately slow and lazy, everything A’whora doesn’t need. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayce, please,” A’whora pleads. Tayce kisses against her, then makes a big show of licking A’whora’s juice off her lips. From the way A’whora squeezes her eyes shut at the sight, it’s had the desired reaction. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it, baby?” she murmurs lightly. A’whora gives a broken sob, thuds her head back against the pillow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, fucking...I <em>need</em> to come, I’m gonna fucking <em>die</em> if I don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce can’t help but splutter a laugh, one which makes A’whora narrow her eyes at her. She supposes she’s had her fun. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God, well we can’t have that on the post-mortem, can we?” she deadpans, before dipping her head back between A’whora’s legs and running her tongue over her clit like she’d done before, only this time she allows herself to be a little more messy and unrestrained. She’s rewarded by the little gasps A’whora gives, the whining and the moaning that’s getting more and more frequent with every flick of her tongue. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce pulls away a little, brings her head up to look at A’whora. She’s got one hand in the cup of her bra and the other limp by her side, her chest gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are red and her lips have dropped open, her breathing heavy and rapid. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and <em>fuck</em>, Tayce is so screwed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she says without thinking. She doesn’t know if she imagines it, but she swears A’whora’s cheeks grow redder. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Does it feel good?” Tayce follows up her words, asks what she’d meant to ask in the first place. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A’whora bites her lip and nods her head. “Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You like it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, yes,” A’whora squirms against the sheets, her frustration starting to show. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me how much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tayce, please-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on, princess. You’re being such a good girl using your words,” Tayce purrs, knowing that the praise will get a reaction out of her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It does. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, feels so good Tayce, so, so, fucking good...please don’t stop, please,” A’whora sighs out, then instantly cuts herself off with a cry as Tayce swipes her tongue over her clit again, gives her what she wants. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Such a good angel baby,” Tayce murmurs against her, tracing over A’whora’s clit in circles and listening to her whimpers get more and more muffled as she bites down on her lip to shut herself up. She’s so desperate that she’s practically riding Tayce’s face at this point and it’s so hot that Tayce has to move a hand between her own legs, grinding against it as she licks A’whora again and again and surely she must be so close to the edge that-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Knock-knock-knock.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce launches her head back from between A’whora’s legs so fast she thinks she’s given herself whiplash. When she locks eyes with A’whora her eyes are wide open too, the pair of them unable to do anything but look at each other, frozen in panic. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Ellie’s voice comes, Tayce swears she’s never been closer to committing homicide. <em>“Tayce, A’whora! We did Lawrence’s hair, you should see it!”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Leave it, don’t answer,” A’whora hisses frantically at her. Tayce wouldn’t even be able to reply if she wanted to, the way the blood is racing in her veins and roaring in her ears rendering her motionless. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>We know you’re in, your coats are in the hall!” </em>Lawrence’s voice comes, louder and with a hint of accusation to it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Shit</em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce launches herself off the bed and throws A’whora’s clothes at her frantically as she shouts back. “Just...give us one minute!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>The fuck are you doing in there that you need a minute?”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce ignores her, trying to calmly turn her dress the right way round but it’s so inside out and jumbled up that it’s rendering the process a lot trickier than she needs it to be right now. A’whora’s in a worse situation, though- she’s got every button on her shirt to button up, and if she wasn’t able to unbutton Tayce’s shirt when she was horny she’s sure as hell unable to button her own up under pressure. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where the fuck is my thong? Where did you put it?” A’whora hisses at her, scrambling at the duvet in desperation. Tayce’s eyes dart round her floor, cursing herself for not having an immaculately tidy room like A’whora’s. With a sigh of relief she finds it sitting on top of a floordrobe pile and she snatches it up and throws it to A’whora quickly. She turns her attention back to her dress and can almost feel a stress headache growing at her temples. <em>Why won’t the fucking thing turn the right way-</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Have we to stand out here all day like a pair of lemons?”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give us a bloody minute, Jesus!” Tayce yells back, feeling like punching the air as she finally sorts her dress out. Her blood runs cold, however, as she makes to tug it over her head and Lawrence’s voice comes again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>For fuck’s sake, girls, I’m sure it’s not that bad, we’ve seen each other in worse states.”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The doorhandle moves and A’whora and Tayce both yell in tandem. “<em>Nonononono!”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The door bursts open, Tayce is standing holding her unbuttoned dress in her bra and pants, A’whora’s on the bed in her thong and half a buttoned up shirt, and there’s Ellie and Lawrence in the doorway with their eyes wide and jaws slack. Lawrence, in all her freshly lilac-dyed glory, is the first to turn around, pushing against Ellie frantically as she tries to exit the room as quickly as she came in. As she’s leaving, Tayce hears the start of her sentence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>What possible heterosexual explanation could there fuckin’ be-” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce can only look at A’whora, whose head is in her hands in embarrassment. Her heart goes out to her and she crosses the room and sits beside her on the bed, placing a hand on her knee to comfort her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well. They know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And so will the whole flat in about five minutes’ time,” A’whora deadpans into her hands. When she pulls her head back her face is beetroot red, and even though Tayce is embarrassed too she can’t help but laugh at the state her friend is in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck’s sake,” Tayce shakes her head as she giggles, resigned to the fact their secret is out. There’s a pause of silence before A’whora frowns. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce frowns back at her affectionately. “What’re you apologising for! It’s not like it was either of our faults.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a silence again in which A’whora brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you still want to...you know. Do you still want to keep doing all this? Now they know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce nods quickly. A thought occurs to her and she frowns. “Unless you don’t want to?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No! No, I still do,” A’whora insists, a shy smile growing on her face that lifts Tayce’s hopes a bit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tayce pokes A’whora’s arm, slyly grins in realisation. “Well. Guess if the whole flat knows then there’s no real reason to be quiet from now on, is there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When A’whora meets her eyes there’s a spark between them, and when they fall against the mattress together in a kiss then Tayce thinks maybe the others knowing about the pair of them won’t matter a single bit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As long as they get to keep doing this together. </p>
<p> </p>
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